


The Dragon Mosaic

by Cookie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie/pseuds/Cookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur Pendragon took up his post as the youngest ever Director of a National Museum, all he wanted was to do the best job he could.  He didn’t expect to end up embroiled in art theft… or to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon Mosaic

**Author's Note:**

> **Author note** I was thrilled by the wonderful art Amphigoury did for the story. Please, please, take a little time and go here [ to comment!](http://amphigoury.livejournal.com/44040.html)

_Prologue_

_The Gods believed that his grief would ease; that time would blunt the unceasing guilt of a destiny unfulfilled._

_But the years passed and he did not recover; he did not live, and learn, and grow as they had intended. Instead, he haunted the lakeside and waited; silent in his determination to be there when the other side of his coin returned to him._

_The Lady of the Lake pleaded with the Gods and Goddesses of the Old Religion. “Let him rest. Find another way.”_

_A father begged for surcease for his son._

_Despair surged through the bond and woke a sleeping king, and he begged them, too._

_Others came; his dragon kin and even old enemies._

_“He is suffering.”_

_“Find another way.”_

_And the Gods and Goddesses listened._

**

 

Arthur Pendragon might be gripping the handle of his leather briefcase until his knuckles were white, but his features were calm as he gazed up at the imposing edifice before him. Under the brilliant blue of a clear spring day, the cream stone on the Welsh National Museum shone and glimmered. The banners advertising the latest exhibition shifted in the light breeze, drawing his eye further upward and then around at the local area. His attention was caught by sight of the statue that topped City Hall and he looked again. Some sort of optical illusion, he decided, convinced for a moment that the great carved stone dragon curled around at the top had shifted until it was staring down at him.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way steadily up the wide shallow steps towards the museum entrance. Almost unwillingly, his gaze was drawn to the dragon again and he tripped as it flicked its tail and dipped its head to him. 

It was the sun in his eyes, he told himself, steadfastly ignoring the sun’s position elsewhere in the sky and he put it firmly from his mind, concentrating instead on the double doors and navigating his way through the milling crowd. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock, when the museum officially opened its doors to the public, and by rights there should be someone on duty to ensure visitors couldn’t slip in before the museum staff were all in place. 

Frowning at this blatant breach of procedure, Arthur stepped through into the grand space of the main hall. The main door opened into the middle of one of the long sides and there was an immediate impact of grandeur as he looked right and left and then up, up, up to the great dome. The space was stunning and the breath caught in his throat for a moment before his attention returned to events of a more human scale. He became aware of a small group who seemed to be in the midst of an argument, their voices echoing around the cavernous space. Arthur stood quietly to one side for a moment, taking the time to try and work out what exactly was happening. A museum security guard was standing with his back to the entrance and Arthur presumed he should be responsible for manning the doors, before Arthur assessed the remaining staff, most of whom appeared to be either cleaners or part of the security team. As he watched, wondering already about what tensions he was going to have to deal with, one of the men at the centre of the group flung his hands in the air in what was clearly frustration and the group erupted in laughter. Arthur felt some of his own disquiet ease at the sound.

“Okay, back to work,” the man called, his tone brisk but amused and Arthur noted the way everyone around him immediately moved off about their own business. “We need to get the doors open and, Emerson, don’t think we won’t be coming back to this. I know you don’t have any time for the Druids but covering yourself in ochre, parading around naked and pretending to be the Red Lady come back to life is not going to help!” His words were followed by another gale of laughter, although no-one now loitered and instead everyone seemed to be bustling away with real purpose in their step.

As they dispersed, Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. There, eyes dancing with mirth and generous mouth smiling broadly, was the most beautiful young man Arthur had ever seen. The shock was almost visceral as something uncoiled in Arthur’s gut and a hitherto unacknowledged cave man instinct seemed to kick in with a resounding beating of chest and cries of _mine!_

Well, fuck.

As the man turned, he caught sight of Arthur and ambled towards him.

“Bore da,” he said. “Siarad Cymraeg?”

Bugger. Fuck.

Arthur had managed to open one book on how to learn Welsh and had swiftly shut it again, overcome with horror. 

“Sorry?” 

“Good morning. I asked if you speak Welsh, but I assume the answer is no. We’re not quite open yet, I’m afraid. Do you have an appointment with someone?”

“No.” Arthur didn’t manage to get any further, still slightly stunned by the sight of this man and by the lilting accent colouring an unexpectedly deep voice.

“In which case I’m afraid you’ll have to wait outside until 10. Gareth will escort you out. Gareth?” 

“I don’t think you understand,” Arthur said.

“I do speak and understand English perfectly well, my friend.” There was a sudden prickly note in the man’s voice and his expression morphed from friendly to a cool courtesy that Arthur guessed was unusual.

Dryly, Arthur attempted to explain. “I really don’t think I’m your friend.” Only to be interrupted once more.

“Well, that’s clear enough.” The words you _prat_ were unspoken but Arthur was quite sure he heard them nonetheless. “And now you need to leave.”

Oh, for pity’s sake. Was he really about to be thrown out of his own museum before he’d even managed to start work here? Annoyance at the man’s attitude was beginning to spark his own temper.

“Now, look here –“

“Dr Pendragon!”

Arthur spun and felt his features ease into a smile as he recognised the man approaching him. “Gaius,” he said, and reached out to shake his hand, delighted to see someone who had been a friend for many years, and who had been the Keeper of Archaeology here for most of the time Arthur had known him.

There was a certain amount of smug satisfaction washing through Arthur as he witnessed the dawning knowledge on his antagonist’s features.

“I see you’ve met Dr Emerson,” Gaius said, and his smile was knowing. “Merlin, this is our new Director, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Oh, bloody, buggering fuck,” Merlin said, before he clapped his hand across his mouth and stared at Arthur with wide blue eyes.

There was a long silence. Neither of the men facing Arthur would ever have believed he was struggling against a completely inappropriate fit of the giggles.

Outside the clock began striking the hour and there was a sudden increase in the noise as the doors opened and people began filing into the great hall. Excited high voices of a school party overlaid the softer murmur of a group of elderly women. A couple of young mothers with pushchairs and toddlers in tow were heading towards the natural history galleries and the dinosaurs, and Arthur was quietly amazed by the rush of people and the noise. In the midst of it all, he was pleased to see the museum staff interacting with various members of the public, handing out plans, pointing out lockers and offering advice, their demeanour friendly and welcoming. It was a good first impression. 

Which brought him back to Dr Emerson, and a slightly less than stellar first impression. The man was still staring at him with his hand across his mouth as if Arthur was one of the displays and he raised an eyebrow, controlling his original urge to laugh with ease. He couldn’t help it, for some reason Emerson was bringing out the worst in him, letting loose a natural arrogance he normally worked hard to keep in check.

There was sudden movement and Arthur wondered if he'd imagined the elbow that Gaius had jabbed into Emerson’s ribs but the way Emerson flinched, perhaps not. In the next moment, Emerson had shot his hand out.

“Er… pleased to meet you?” Emerson said.

Arthur tilted his head to the side as he considered him, but ignored the hand and turned instead to Gaius. “Gaius, I believe I've a meeting with the chair of the trust and the deputy director, perhaps you'd be kind enough to point me in the right direction?”

“No need, Arthur, I noticed that Leon is on his way down.”

Arthur nodded. Leon Avery was the deputy director, just a few years older than Arthur but without the breadth of museum experience. He'd come up through the ranks as it were, starting as an assistant art keeper at the museum before moving into the operations side. Arthur had been impressed by the information Leon had been providing since he'd learned of his appointment and they'd already shared a number of congenial conversations.

With some difficulty, although no one who didn’t know him would realise that, he put all thoughts of cheeky, gorgeous, insufferable young men out of his mind, turning his back on Merlin Emerson without a look or a word, effectively and rather overtly expressing a disdain for the man he was far from feeling.

This time there was no doubt as the words, “What a prat,” echoed behind him and Arthur tried not to grin as it was followed by the sounds of a distinct slap and a yelp as Gaius exacted his own discipline. 

Arthur followed Leon into the lift, aware as he walked away of Emerson’s eyes on him and when Arthur turned he deliberately faced Emerson, raising his eyebrows and aiming for an expression of autocratic arrogance. In response, as the doors closed, Arthur was treated to a wide smile from Merlin that left Arthur blinking and disarmed, struggling not to dispense with his dignity and grin in return. 

With something of a wrench, Arthur pulled his attention back to Leon’s quiet narrative about the current state of the museum budget. Leon’s features were perfectly respectful but there was a twitch of a grin suggesting Leon had been amused by the interchange between the two men. With a little difficulty, Arthur put all thoughts of Emerson from his mind and concentrated on the business of learning more about the day to day running of the museum, as well as gauging how well he and Leon might work together. This was one of the crucial relationships Arthur had to build. Arthur had been immediately impressed with Leon when he'd first met him, feeling that their skills meshed well and pleased at the grasp Leon had on the operational aspects of running the museum. He nodded his understanding as Leon, patient and calm, if a little hesitant, outlined the budget timescale and how it impacted upon their planning process. They exited the lift at the top floor and Leon led him around to what would be his own office, introducing Arthur to various members of staff as they passed. Arthur didn’t rush, aware of a certain reticence in everyone’s reaction, a nervousness that didn't seem to mesh with what he'd seen in other organisations he'd worked in. If he were to put a name to it, he'd call it fear. He'd seen it so far in everyone other than Gaius, who'd known him for a long time and Merlin Emerson, who'd responded to him with a fire and spirit that persisted even when he'd learned who Arthur was. 

Leon opened the door to the office where Arthur’s personal assistant had her desk and Arthur resolutely pushed all thoughts of Merlin Emerson from his mind, as he settled into the heady business of taking control of his museum, shaking his PA, Heledd’s, hand. Arthur couldn’t stop his grin from surfacing as he was introduced to the prosaic details of his ICT equipment, while Leon interjected with more information on where to find data on budgets and staffing. Arthur glanced up and Leon stopped abruptly, staring at Arthur.

Then Leon grinned and let out a whoosh of air that sounded like relief. “It’s good to have you here, Dr. Pendragon.”

“Thanks, Leon. And it’s Arthur.”

Leon’s grinned widened and for a moment it looked as if the weight of the world had dropped from his shoulders. “Thanks, Arthur. We’re meeting the Chair in the boardroom. Heledd’s organised tea.” He ushered Arthur out and, slightly bemused but filing every impression away to consider later, Arthur let himself be guided.

 

**

Arthur concentrated as hard as he possibly could on the almost overwhelming task facing him – his first day running an institution beloved of its people, holding the memories and cultural heritage of a nation. Even so, every so often thoughts of his first encounter with Merlin ambushed him – and he'd become Merlin rather than Emerson in Arthur’s mind frighteningly quickly. Arthur comforted himself with the thought that he'd have little to do with most of the staff below Keeper level and so he tried to put aside any thoughts of dark blue eyes and a mop of scruffy black hair. Deep within him, though, Arthur knew he was already lost.

**

In the event, it was easier than Arthur thought it might be to avoid Merlin and consign him to the back of his mind, for the moment at least. Over the next few weeks there was a constant stream of information thrown at him, countless meetings with external stakeholders and internal groups of staff. When Arthur spoke to the Archaeology department he was keenly aware of Merlin’s absence, but accepted Gaius’ explanation of the recent find of a new villa site close to Caerleon with a brief nod. Gaius still remained one of the few staff who seemed to speak openly. Leon was another and Arthur was grateful to them both for their steadfast support as he grappled with the culture of fear the previous Director, Phillip Kanen, had apparently left in his wake. And even they seemed reluctant to discuss how Kanen had established such a poisonous hold over the organisation. Throughout all the conversations Arthur had with groups or individuals his initial suspicions of dealing with a body of people almost uniformly afraid to speak out grew and hardened into certainty. For now, he had to concentrate on getting to know his staff and getting them to trust him while he grew into his role. Arthur Pendragon was committed, experienced and very, very good at what he did. It would take time, but he'd get this museum running just the way he wanted it. Of that Arthur had no doubt. It would just take time.

Visits to the other national museum sites also filled Arthur’s days, in addition to learning his way around Wales and getting lost a bewildering number of times; not to mention the sheep. Such a bloody cliché, Arthur thought, as he trundled carefully over the cattle grid and worked his way around the little cluster of woolly menaces. He was quite convinced they must be able to smell that he was English as they stared accusingly at him. The wretched things just kept chewing, quite unconcerned by the fact Arthur could, if he chose, plough through them and turn them into something only fit for a stewpot.

It was bewildering and exhausting, and then finally exhilarating, as he began to understand the legacy he'd taken on and could see where he could make a difference. He bided his time as he'd first decided, letting the staff get used to him and developing good working relationships with his senior team. He was working hard to build the trust of all the staff and try to break down the climate of fear that had seemed so pervasive when he first arrived. He was aware that in this instance change would have to come from his leadership and depend on his own conduct. The surprise with which the staff in the branch museums had greeted his arrival told him more than they ever knew. Arthur had also arranged private Welsh lessons, determined to demonstrate his commitment and eventual mastery of the language that was so much a part of the fabric and culture, even in the urban south of the country.

In the midst of all this activity it was perhaps not so surprising he and Merlin had managed to avoid any close contact, although Arthur had caught sight of him a number of times, seeming to have an uncanny instinct that told him when Merlin was in the building and close to him. Merlin was usually trailing a tail of eagerly chatting youngsters and invariably had a couple of young girls hanging off his hands and gazing up at him in adoration. Arthur experienced a certain amount of sympathy with them. It never failed to make him smile as he stood on the balcony overlooking the great entrance hall and watched. 

And every time, every single damned time, as if Merlin had the same instinct, Merlin would look up and catch him watching.

**

His own suspicions regarding the cause of the general wariness of staff were brought into sharp focus on one particular afternoon when he returned early from a meeting and opened the door to his PA’s office to see her sitting in her chair, chalk-white and with her hands clenched into fists in her lap. That Heledd, a sparky, sharp-witted woman with two grown children who'd recently been displaying an increasingly caustic wit as she got to know him, should appear to be so afraid immediately alerted Arthur to the fact something was wrong.

Arthur didn't even speak, raising his eyebrows and in return she turned her head and stared at his office. In response, Arthur lifted the telephone receiver and punched in the extension number for the security desk. He handed it to Heledd and she spoke quietly into it while Arthur stepped towards his office and opened the door.

There was a man sitting behind the desk, apparently attempting to open one of the desk drawers. Arthur knew immediately who it was. 

“Can I help you?” Arthur asked.

Phillip Kanen was a handsome man and knew it. He stood immediately, pasting on a smile and stood to offer his hand.

Arthur ignored the friendly overture. He hadn’t missed the expression of anger and frustration flashing across Kanen’s features when he’d been interrupted. It highlighted the cruel twist of Kanen’s mouth and the calculation in his eyes. With his first sight of this man, Arthur had the answers to most of his questions about the current culture within the organisation.

Kanen’s hand dropped and he drew himself up to his full height, obviously going for intimidation, but Arthur had been brought up by a driven and terrifying father, so Kanen’s posturing had little impact.

“Sorry to turn up without contacting you first, Arthur. I’m your predecessor, Phillip Kanen. I’m afraid I left a personal file behind and popped in to retrieve it.” He smiled thinly. “You’re very young for this job. I hope it won’t be too much for you. Please do get in touch if I can be of any help.”

“There was nothing in the desk,” Arthur said. “If I do come across anything I will ensure it's returned to its rightful owner.”

Kanen twitched but was forestalled before he could respond as the museum’s head of security arrived, with Leon in tow.

“Dr Pendragon?”

“Ah, Geraint. I'd appreciate it if you'd show Mr Kanen off the premises. Leon, perhaps we could discuss additional security measures. It really doesn’t do for members of the public to find it so easy to get to the office level. Good day, Mr Kanen, do enjoy your retirement.”

“Of course, Dr Pendragon,” Geraint said.

“Excellent idea, Dr Pendragon,” Leon said. “Do you have time to discuss it now? We could put measures in place almost immediately.” 

Arthur nearly laughed aloud. He'd been at pains during his first few weeks to try to inject a certain informality as part of his slow campaign to win people’s trust, and Arthur’s title and surname hadn't been used by his staff since Arthur’s first day on the job. Arthur kept his own features suitably bland until Kanen had been escorted out of the office.

Heledd spoke as soon as he was out of earshot. “I’m so sorry, Arthur –“

Arthur held up his hand to stop her, the memory of the fear so starkly painted on her face too recent. “You've absolutely nothing to apologise for. Would you be kind and arrange some tea for us all?”

She smiled at him. “Now you’re taking advantage,” she said, her spirit returning with her colour. “I’ll get it myself. Only this once, mind.” And she bustled off towards the kitchen.

Arthur turned to Leon, his expression serious once more. “You're going to have to tell me more about Kanen, and how he got such a hold over everyone.”

Leon’s moue of distaste was telling, before he shrugged. “It’s difficult to know how it happened – or how we let it happen.” Leon scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Everything he said and did – there was never anything you could really put a finger on but it was like acid; the words sounded reasonable but they burned and dug into you. We protected the junior staff from him as much as possible, but Kanen was brilliant with the Board, and never gave us anything that we could use to build a case. I’m still not sure why he handed in his resignation.”

“Well, I wasn’t joking about new security measures.” Arthur decided to let the rest lie for now and turned his smile on Heledd as she arrived with a tray of tea.

“Bless you,” he said. “Come in and join us for a few minutes.” Arthur ushered them in before him. As he followed, he couldn’t help his thoughts drifting to Merlin and wondered whether Merlin had escaped Kanen’s attention and that was why he showed such irreverence towards the museum’s director and was one of the few staff he dealt with who didn't seem afraid.

** 

Merlin and Arthur didn't meet again until Arthur made his visit to the Roman Museum at Caerleon on a sweltering hot day in late April and was directed across to the site of the new Roman villa that had been uncovered. The site, close to the river, was a hive of activity when Arthur arrived, with a number of people milling about: digging, drawing, surveying, pushing barrows and dealing with the myriad finds that tend to characterise a Roman site of any size. As always, despite the number of people around, Arthur’s gaze was drawn immediately to the tall figure of the Assistant Keeper. As Arthur stood there, he saw Merlin suddenly spin around, obviously breaking off in the midst of his conversation if the puzzled expression of his colleague was anything to go by.

Unerringly, as if Arthur was a lodestone, Merlin’s eyes settled upon him.

The world stopped.

Well, in reality it didn’t, but there was definitely a hiccup, a split second where it seemed as if it was only the two of them that existed, as if the world had just taken a deep breath inwards.

Merlin looked tired as he walked across to him, covered in dust from the site, but there was a real twinkle in his eye as he reached out and gripped Arthur’s hand in a firm hold. Arthur realised the reason for the amusement as his clean fingers with their immaculately manicured nails were engulfed in a sweaty, dirty paw that left him wanting to wash immediately.

He grimaced at Merlin. “Nice to see you, too,” Arthur said, trying not to laugh and desperately ignoring the flash of heat sparking through him at that first touch. 

There was a moment where he saw surprise in Merlin’s gaze, before it morphed into amusement and curiosity, and Arthur half-shrugged.

“We’re honoured to have the great Director visiting our humble excavation. If I'd known, we would've sent to the finest weavers to provide us with a new red carpet,” Merlin said. 

“It’s why I didn’t tell you I was coming. I wanted to see the peasants in their natural environment.” Arthur injected as much aloof arrogance into his tone as he could manage.

They'd been walking towards the site of the excavation and they were within earshot of some of the diggers.

“How's it going?” Arthur asked, switching into professional mode.

“Not bad. We need to spray the site to keep it damp. I can’t believe it’s so dry. Who'd believe we’d get weather like this in April?” Merlin glanced almost uneasily at the sky. “We’ve got a major Roman villa here and not really in a place we'd expect it. There’s been a fair amount of pottery and some metalwork coming up from the site over the past couple of years, ever since the farmer ploughed it. It had been grazed for a long time. It’s not a scheduled monument – although it will be now – so the Finds Liaison Officer has been seeing stuff from a number of different metal detectorists.” He shrugged at Arthur’s expression. “So far we’ve found no odd holes in the ground in the morning. We’ve put down a number of trial trenches where the geophys suggested walls. Sorry, am I boring you?” He stopped abruptly and placed his hands on his hips, staring challengingly at Arthur.

“No, not at all,” Arthur hastened to reassure him and tore his attention away from the way Merlin’s mouth moved when he talked. “Why don’t we walk round the site?” If they were walking, he wouldn't actually have to look at Merlin. And that might be safer, because at the moment Arthur wanted to tackle him into the nearest ditch and do unspeakable things to that mouth. This was so utterly ridiculous. A small, five year old part of his mind yelled out it’s not fair!, while the rest was busy on strategies to get Merlin into his bed as soon as he possibly could.

Except he couldn’t. Arthur was less than two months into his dream job, something he’d wanted and worked for as long as he could remember, following a career that had led his father to disown him. To indulge in an affair with a junior member of staff was unthinkable on so many levels, not least because of the power imbalance. Arthur couldn’t do that to either of them. He drew in a deep, shaky sigh, ignoring the concerned gaze on him, and packed up his inconvenient emotions and desires, tidying them away into a cupboard in the back of his mind as he metaphorically shut the door, locked it and threw away the key.

He turned cool, flat eyes on Merlin and, in a voice that had lost all its natural expression, said: “What’s your timescale for the dig? I didn’t see an end date on the departmental budget.”

Merlin considered him for a moment before his own expression cleared of all amusement and he obviously settled in to make his case. 

Arthur felt as if all the warmth had been sucked out of the sun.

**

As they walked round the site and engaged in something that could be called either lively debate or downright disagreement, Arthur reflected once again on Merlin’s attitude to him. Merlin seemed to hold him in no awe whatsoever. Where other members of the junior staff still smiled nervously at him or scuttled out of the way, Merlin was barrelling in, saying what he thought and contradicting him on just about everything, just as he'd done the very first time they'd met. Arthur was still working on dismantling the caution and fear redolent in the organisation but accepted he'd a long way to go. His brief meeting with Kanen and Leon’s even briefer response to his questions, had left him with no doubt as to who was responsible even if he didn’t have the details. Somehow, he needed to encourage his staff to speak out and began wondering how he could use Merlin’s attitude to help him achieve it. Yet again he wondered just what his predecessor had been up to that had fostered such a culture of fear. Even his senior staff members, other than Gaius and Leon, continued to display a level of hesitancy in their dealings with him that concerned him. Arthur realised he was being optimistic to hope for real change to take effect so quickly and counselled himself to be patient. 

Half Arthur’s mind was on the culture of his new organisation, while the rest was doing its best to concentrate on what Merlin was telling him about the importance of the villa site.

“Who’s digging here?” Arthur asked, looking at the hub of activity on the site and assuming they couldn’t all be National Museum employees.

“We’re working with the University of Wales Archaeology Department – so we’re offering practical training in a range of archaeological skills. The first and second year students are scheduling in time around their study. And there are volunteers from the local archaeological society. Though some of them are a little scary.” Merlin glanced across the site and when Arthur followed his gaze he could see three people staring back at them. 

For some reason a jolt of emotion shook Arthur, unease and a sudden dread taking root within him. He frowned and then watched warily as they headed towards them. The two women were beautiful, even dressed in old clothes and smeared with dirt, and Arthur wondered what on earth they were doing on the dig. Women didn’t do anything for him, but he was enough of an aesthete to appreciate the contrast between them, one with long dark hair and the other so very blonde. A young man strode between them, also handsome, and together they made a striking picture.

Arthur wasn’t sure why he felt he should be reaching for some form of defence. Merlin was tense beside him and Arthur was only slightly reassured by the fact he seemed to be feeling just as unsettled.

“You must be Arthur Pendragon. We heard you‘d taken up your post. My name’s Morgana Gorlois. This is my sister, Morgause, and our friend Mordred. We’re very pleased to meet you, Dr Pendragon.” She extended her hand and Arthur had no choice but to take it, pressing her fingers quickly and releasing her hand before repeating the action with the others. Morgana smiled at him, her mouth trembling a little, adding to Arthur’s disquiet, “I hope you'll ensure the excavation continues. This is an incredible find for Wales.”

Arthur was convinced there was another conversation going on here entirely, but had no idea what the hell it was. He was aware, too, of Mordred’s stare settling on him and it seemed unlikely to shift. Arthur managed a non-commital answer and Merlin didn't speak at all.

Morgana nodded, as if she’d expected nothing else but hesitated, as if there was more she wanted to say. “I really am pleased to see you, Arthur.” And then she was gone, linking her arms through those of Morgause and Mordred as they headed back to the dig.

“Is it just me or was that weird?” The professional cloak he'd pulled around him slipped completely as he turned to face Merlin.

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t have much to do with them. They really don’t like me.”

Arthur was surprised into responding, “But everyone likes you.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Arthur felt heat crawling up his face as Merlin grinned at him and lowered his eyelids, glancing up at Arthur through them.

Minx, Arthur thought, half-amused and half-exasperated. He'd a nasty feeling the tightly-locked cupboard in the back of his mind was going to be no barrier to this man whatsoever.

It was true, though, that Arthur had yet to come across anyone who had a bad word to say about Merlin. Even Geraint, his dour head of security had only grunted and mentioned that when Merlin stayed late he always brought the security staff a cup of tea. And then the man had smiled, for the first time Arthur had ever seen in their briefings, and which, if he was honest, was rather terrifying.

Merlin. Everyone loved Merlin.

Apart from the leading lights of the local Arc Soc it seemed. 

“What on earth have you done?”

“I have no idea – they’ve been like that from the first day I met them. I think the very fact I exist bothers them.” Merlin sighed and looked down, his lips drawn together in what looked suspiciously like a pout.

Their rejection really upset Merlin, Arthur accepted, probably because it was such an unusual occurrence, and his own slight exasperation grew. Growing up, he’d lived his life trying to measure up to the unrealistic expectations of his father and it had left him isolated, often struggling to cope. That in turn had ensured he'd been almost friendless, no-one able to deal with the awkward, driven boy he'd become, his shyness hidden behind a veneer of arrogance. It was only when a history teacher had fired his interest in archaeology that he'd begun to see there was another way; and he didn't have to live by his father’s rules for the rest of his life. Gaius had been a friend of his father’s first, and when he'd moved from teaching to work in the museum Gaius had ensured they kept in touch, even in the face of Uther Pendragon’s growing opposition and eventual attempts to end the friendship between Arthur and Gaius. So Arthur couldn't help but envy Merlin the ease in which he interacted with people of all ages and in all walks of life – anyone could be Merlin’s friend, it seemed. 

Arthur sighed, realising he'd been silent for too long and asked abruptly, “Is there a decent pub around here?” The diggers were already packing up, cleaning off surfaces and packing away the tools and wheelbarrows and a glance at his watch showed it was well after 5pm. 

Merlin stared at him and if he was surprised by Arthur’s about-face, he said nothing. “There’s a good pub about ten minutes walk away. Give me fifteen minutes to close down the site. By the time we get there the doors should be open.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, then pulled out his Blackberry and checked the emails that had come through in the past hour or so. He dealt quickly with those he could, forwarded several on to other members of the senior team, and made a couple of phone calls. He was just putting the device away when Merlin trotted up, a tatty backpack slung across one shoulder. He was exchanging a final few words with one of the site supervisors, a bearded man with shoulder-length brown hair and clear hazel eyes and Arthur disliked him on sight, especially when the man pulled Merlin into his arms for a brief, tight hug and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Merlin was flushed and grinning when he reached Arthur, although his smile dimmed slightly as he caught the expression on Arthur’s face. Merlin said nothing, though, gesturing towards the far corner of the field and Arthur saw the lane beyond the fence so joined him in trudging across the sere grass.

**

Morgana stared after them, watching the two of them in the evening light. She became aware of Morgause and Mordred coming to stand on either side of her. “It’s always them,” she said.

“Yes,” Morgause agreed. “And it always will be.”

Mordred remained silent but his gaze was fixed on Arthur and was both troubled and wistful. 

**

The pub did an excellent pint and also had a bar menu, which reminded Arthur he'd spent the day going from meeting to meeting before heading for Caerleon and had missed lunch altogether. He shoved a menu at Merlin and told him brusquely that dinner was on him before heading to the bar to place their order and return with his own beer and Merlin’s shandy. Arthur took a good long pull at his pint before turning his attention to Merlin, reminding himself of the need to keep everything professional. 

“Tell me about the dig funding. What’s the university contributing? And what are the post-excavation requirements? Have we had any funding from Cadw?”

Merlin took a healthy swig of his own drink then outlined the arrangements in place succinctly, impressing Arthur with his understanding of how the internal machinations of the budget process worked. Merlin had a keen eye for detail and an ability to present facts and arguments that impressed Arthur.

“There’s still no end date in your departmental plan,” Arthur said.

“Because until we could sink the trial trenches and see what was coming up, there was no way to know. You need to talk to Gaius about this. His budget plans have back up plans for just about every scenario going. It was the way we had to work with Kanen because he changed his mind from day to day.” Merlin had clearly been annoyed at the start of his speech and he stopped abruptly, as if realising he’d given more away than he intended.

It was too good an opening to ignore. “What kind of Director was Kanen?” 

“The kind you’re glad to see the back of,” Merlin replied. “Excuse me, I need to wash my hands before dinner arrives.”

That’s me well-snubbed, Arthur thought as he stared at Merlin’s retreating back, wondering how he could recognise tension in someone he barely knew.

When Merlin took his seat again, their food had just arrived and Arthur, with a pint of beer on an empty stomach taking its toll, dug in with gusto, resolving to shelve the question of Kanen for the time being. Merlin seemed to appreciate his forbearance and regaled him with tales from a number of digs he’d been involved in in an obvious attempt to entertain and it wasn't long before Arthur was chuckling. Before he knew where he was, Arthur had emptied his fourth pint glass and, while not drunk, was certainly not fit to drive, a point Merlin made quite firmly.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go anywhere in the state you’re in,” Merlin said, just as Arthur announced it was time to call it a night and reached a hand into his pocket.

Arthur glared at him and pulled out his phone. “I was going to call a taxi.” 

“A taxi? All the way into Cardiff? Have you any idea how much that'll cost?” Merlin asked. “Look, I only had a shandy earlier. I’ve got a flat on the outskirts of town. I can drive your car and you can sleep on my couch.”

God, that was such a horrendously bad idea, Arthur couldn’t even begin to list the reasons he should say no. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Really, his mouth wasn’t supposed to have said that. What was he thinking? It seemed to be too late to withdraw it, though, and the pleased smile on Merlin’s face was enough to keep Arthur silent.

They ambled back to the dig site, enjoying the cool evening air after the warmth of the day and talking desultorily about Wales and its archaeological past. It was still early enough in the year that it cooled quickly once the sun went down. Arthur felt the freshness clear his head a little and even wondered whether it was worth the risk of driving back to Cardiff. A glance at the man walking beside him convinced him it wasn't even worth suggesting. Especially as, probably with some foresight, Merlin had already relieved him of the keys.

Arthur opened his mouth anyway.

“Forget it. You’re not driving anywhere.”

Arthur sulked during the short journey, at least until he realised that Merlin was silently laughing at him. Then he was distracted by the way Merlin was driving the powerful car, with an ease and skill making it easy for Arthur to relax. As a rule he didn’t like being driven, but as Merlin was parking the car, squeezing it into a space that was almost too small for it, he said, “You drive well.”

“My mum was a driving instructor –advanced and stunt driving, too. And she taught people going into dangerous areas across the world about defensive driving. She taught me.” Merlin looked down and his expression was sad though his words were proud. 

“She _was_ a driving instructor?” Arthur asked. He didn’t quite know how to ask the obvious question to extract the obvious answer.

“Yes, she was.” Merlin shifted and seemed uncomfortable.

In the end Arthur said nothing, sensing Merlin’s reluctance to talk, but as they walked towards the flat he closed the distance between them, letting their shoulders brush.

“So is this where you live all the time?” Arthur changed the subject, staring up at the modern, rather run-down block of flats, and tried hard not to let his horror show.

Merlin laughed, catching onto his reaction. “I share a house with Gaius, but it’s easier to take a short let while a dig is on if I can. I don’t like to be too far from the site. What about you? Have you bought somewhere in Cardiff yet?”

“I’m renting down in the Bay until I decide where I want to live.”

They chatted as they made their way up the two storeys to Merlin’s small flat. Merlin struggled with the lock and then let them in. He dropped his keys on the table and led Arthur into what was clearly the main room of the flat. It was definitely compact and a desk had been shoved into a corner, which was overflowing with papers, books and a laptop. In another corner was a kitchen.

“Anyway,” Merlin broke into Arthur’s survey, his tone nervous. “It’s a sofa bed and I’ve got some spare sheets and blankets…”

Arthur turned to face him, staring into the deep blue eyes and seeing a burning desire that more than matched his own. He watched as Merlin swallowed, his eyes tracking the Adam’s apple as it moved in his throat. Their breathing had picked up and they couldn’t seem to drag their eyes apart. 

“This is such a bad idea,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin nodded, and then moved, reaching out one hand to cup his fingers around Arthur’s jaw.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Merlin leaned forward, finding courage where Arthur could not, and kissed him, gently to begin with, and then with more assurance as Arthur relaxed against him. 

Arthur murmured deep in his throat and pressed his body against Merlin’s, snaking his arms around him to pull him in and hold him close. He loved the fact they were almost the same height, loved the strength in Merlin’s body, the long length of him and oh – fuck – yes, he pushed his hips forward, swallowing the mewling complaint as he brushed his own cock against a satisfyingly substantial hardness. Oh, God, the thought of that pounding into his arse was nearly enough to finish him before they even got started. He broke the kiss with a groan, his teeth grazing Merlin’s neck and he buried his nose there, breathing deeply to inhale Merlin’s scent. Merlin smelled of…

Smoke.

In that moment the ear-splitting regular beep of a smoke detector sounded. They broke apart and Merlin darted to the door, opening it and then just as swiftly slamming it closed.

“Shit.” Merlin’s eyes were wild. “The whole hallway downstairs is on fire. Come on.” He grabbed Arthur’s hand, stopping only to snatch up the laptop and a notebook, before heading into the bedroom and opening the window.

“We’re two floors up,” Arthur said.

“There’s a ladder down the side of the wall. What the fuck…?”

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“The bloody ladder’s been cut off.”

“Well we can’t stay here.”

Merlin looked at Arthur as if he was mad.

“Really, Arthur, I would never've worked that out for myself. Phone 999 while I strip the bed. God, I hope my neighbours are out tonight.”

Arthur dialled and then shoved the phone at Merlin. “You tell them where we are.” He'd worked out what Merlin was planning and pulled off the sheets, grabbing the penknife Merlin tossed at him easily and splitting the first sheet before pulling it in half. He twisted and then tied the two halves together, testing the knot before grabbing the next sheet and repeating the process. The smoke was already curling under the door and Merlin took the pillows across and blocked the gap as much as he could, before pulling more sheets out of the cupboard. 

They were working in a desperate silence, pausing only when the electricity went off, plunging them into darkness. Arthur could hear the crackling of flames. They both coughed and Merlin pulled out two large handkerchiefs for them to wrap around their mouths and noses. 

“Will this be long enough?” Arthur asked, as he tied it to the bedframe pulled across to the window.

“It’ll have to do,” Merlin answered. “We’ll have to get as far down as we can and then drop. It’s lawn underneath which should help break our fall.” Even in the dim light available from the exterior street lamps Arthur could see the despairing look Merlin cast at the laptop and notebook. He glanced at the windows, suddenly grateful this was a modern block of flats and had correspondingly large windows.

“Shove the mattress out first – and all the blankets. Wrap the laptop in a blanket and shove it in your backpack.” They were acting as they spoke, wincing as something below exploded.

“Fuck. The gas,” Merlin said.

“Go!” 

Merlin looked as if he was about to argue and then pulled Arthur in for the briefest of kisses before he folded his long limbs out of the window and began making his way as quickly as he could down their makeshift escape route. When Merlin dropped, Arthur took only enough time to make sure he was in one piece, before he followed. Arthur could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance, and could see people milling around below. He kept his attention on the climb and was almost there when another explosion rocked the building.

Arthur just had enough time to register a head of fair hair watching from the edge of the crowd before the sheet-rope gave up the ghost. Shit, he was going to completely miss the mattress.

He slammed down – onto a mound of blankets on top of a mattress he was convinced hadn't been there only a second before. The force of the landing knocked the breath out of him, but as far as was aware he was in one piece.

There was another explosion and someone shouted his name in absolute terror and Arthur barely had time to look up as a chunk of debris headed towards him.

Then he knew nothing.

**

_He was cold. Hunting in winter was always cold and it was only the dwindling stores of meat in the castle that would tempt him out, even though he normally enjoyed the hunt. Glancing across the clearing, he saw Merlin hunched over the small fire placed close to the tent and smiled. At least they could keep one another warm during the night._

He shivered.

“Arthur. Arthur? We need you to wake up now.”

“Merlin?” he said, not opening his eyes.

“Merlin is fine, my boy. He’s being checked to make sure the smoke hasn’t done any damage and he’ll be here soon.”

“Gaius,” he managed, sleepy and still confused. “You shouldn’t be out here. Too cold. Go back to the castle.”

There was a short pause, providing enough time for Arthur to register the sounds and smells around him and, wearily, he forced open his eyes, to find himself surrounded by a number of medical staff and Gaius, and all of whom were staring at him with perplexed expressions.

He thought of and discarded several opening remarks, determined not to stoop to the depths of becoming a cliché before deciding he really didn’t give a fuck and settling on, 

“What happened? Where am I?”

“Hello, Dr Pendragon. I’m Doctor Williams. You’re in Newport Hospital. Can you remember anything about what happened?” The woman was a petite brunette who Arthur was convinced couldn't possibly be old enough to have left school, let alone qualified as a doctor.

“No… wait… I was with Merlin. There was a fire – my God, it happened so quickly. How could that happen? We’d only been in the flat a few minutes and there was no sign of a fire when we got in. Was anyone else hurt? Where’s Merlin?” He was beginning to panic and started to cough, struggling to sit up. He put his weight on his arm to lever himself upright and gasped, collapsing back as pain sparked through him.

“Merlin's fine. He’ll be back here shortly. Fortunately no-one else was in the block. You were incredibly lucky, Mr Pendragon. Part of the building collapsed as you were getting down. The fire crew still isn’t quite sure how you weren’t killed because you were hit by a considerable weight of concrete. You've a fracture in one arm, a nasty cut on the head and you're concussed. We'd like to keep you here for 48 hours to make sure everything is okay, especially with your breathing.”

Before Arthur could even begin to think up an argument about why he wouldn’t be staying, the doors to the ward opened and he saw Merlin being wheeled towards him, sitting slumped in the chair and with an oxygen mask covering his mouth.

“Merlin.” 

Merlin looked up and managed to smile weakly at him, waving but not trying to talk. Arthur waited impatiently until Merlin had been settled in the next bed and then pinned his best ‘I’m a Very Important Man and you will answer me’ expression on the doctor. “Why is Merlin on oxygen?” he asked. 

His attempt at cowing the doctor had no effect whatsoever as she ignored him and moved across to Merlin instead, sounding his chest and asking him a few low voiced questions. The inference was clear. It was none of Arthur’s business. Except it was, damn it, it was. Fear was crawling through him and he stared at Merlin. The doctor turned and her eyebrows rose slightly. Another question was put to Merlin and at his nod, she returned to Arthur.

“Dr Emerson is fine, Dr Pendragon. He’s suffering from asthma and just needed a little help because of the smoke. We’ll be keeping him in for 48 hours, too.”  
Arthur relaxed and she smiled at him. And then the import of her words hit home.

“I’ve got a museum to run. I can’t take time off,” Arthur said.

Her smile widened at Arthur’s dismay. “Oh, yes, you can,” she said. “ And you will. I’m signing you off work for at least a fortnight and then we’ll see how you’re doing.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but she'd already turned away from him and he was left glaring at a nurse, who stared impassively back at him. He was gratified by the sound of Merlin also expressing his annoyance and turned his head to see Gaius take the man’s hand and speak quietly to him. Merlin quietened immediately, looking rather defeated as he lay back and closed his eyes.

Gaius moved across to Arthur’s side again. “Is there anyone you want me to contact, Arthur?”

“No, no-one.” He pressed his lips together.

Thankfully, Gaius didn’t ask any further questions. “I was reminding Merlin how his mother put him into my care before she died last year. He may be an adult but she wanted to know there'd be someone to look out for him. I knew his mother for many years, before Merlin was born.” Gaius hesitated. “Did I ever tell you I knew your mother, too?”

Arthur’s mother, his bright beautiful mother, a woman he could only half-remember, almost a scent memory more than anything; flowers and freshly washed linen dried in the sun. He swallowed hard. “You never said.”

“I was always rather worried you might mention something to your father about it. Well, you know why. I was very fond of Ygraine, Arthur, and I’d like to think she'd want me to look out for you, too.”

He’d been alone for such a long time, wrapping himself up in his work and making it the centre of everything he was, indulging in some short-term relationships when the need for something other than his own company – his own right-hand - became too much. But they always left him, telling him he was cold and had no thought for anyone other than himself. Arthur stared at Gaius, seeing how sincere he was in his offer not just of friendship, but of something that in time could become almost like family.

And oh, how desperately Arthur wanted.

Yet still Arthur hesitated, afraid of giving in, of letting in something that could be such a weakness. Even after all these years, the terror and pain of grief was a residual undercurrent in every day. To let other people in - not just Gaius, he realised - could open him up to more pain in the future. It was a risk. It was a gamble. If he hadn’t already been disarmed and discombobulated by Merlin, he wasn’t sure if he would even be considering Gaius’ words. He glanced over at Merlin, who was staring sleepily at him, eyes blinking as if he was struggling to stay awake. Merlin’s own injuries were obviously making themselves felt, and Arthur knew the nursing staff would be waking him periodically through the night to check his responses. Arthur turned his attention back to Gaius and in the calm warmth exuding from him, he found his answer.

“Thank you, Gaius,” he said. “Once I’m out of here, perhaps you could tell me more about her?”

“I’d be pleased to – she was a remarkable young woman. But now, you need to get some rest. Do you want me to go to your flat?”

The next few moments were spent on practicalities with Gaius promising Leon would be in the next day before he was chased out by the nurse, carrying Merlin’s backpack cradled in his arms. Arthur frowned at the sight and then looked across at Merlin again, seeing with some satisfaction that he was already asleep. Arthur sighed, tried to find a more comfortable position for his arm, and resigned himself to a disturbed night.

**

The doctors had obviously insisted that the first 48 hours of their recovery was supposed to be uninterrupted and it was almost exactly two days later that Arthur woke from yet another doze to see a stranger sitting by Merlin’s bed. Yet another dark-haired and dark-eyed man with just enough stubble to be attractive rather than scruffy, he thought, and wondered why he was both pleased and displeased at the sight of him. His instant bizarre and often incomprehensible reactions to the people he'd met since he came to Wales was starting to become annoying. He must've made some sound because Merlin looked across and beamed at him, evidently delighted to see him awake.

“Lance, Arthur’s awake now – you can go and bother him.”

Arthur pulled himself upright using his good arm, ignoring the pain of his injured one as he managed to reach across and pour himself a drink. A great deal of his irritation over the past couple of days had been due to the number of people who thought Arthur was now totally incapable of doing anything for himself – including Merlin, who'd developed an unnerving tendency to fuss over him. The man named Lance, Arthur was pleased to note, watched him carefully but left him to his own devices.

“And here was me thinking you cared for me, Merlin – turns out you’re just using me to get rid of unwelcome visitors.”

“Lance isn’t unwelcome.” Merlin sounded almost shocked. “He’s just full of questions I don’t have any answers to. He’s a policeman.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be much help either, but do your worst. Carry on with the interrogation, officer.”

Lance laughed, but looked a little uneasy as he moved across to sit by Arthur’s bed. “It should be CID doing this, but as Merlin's helping with a case I’m working on I volunteered to take statements. It won’t take long, I promise. I’m Detective Inspector Lance DuLac.” He offered a handshake and smiled for a moment before he sobered, getting to the business at hand. “I’m sorry to ask this, but is there anyone you know of who harbours a grudge against you?”

Arthur gaped at Lance and it was left to Merlin to explain.

“They’re treating the fire as attempted murder.”

Arthur recalled Merlin’s pale, pinched features as he announced that the escape ladder had been removed and bit his lip. He saw the worry now and tried to dredge up a smile from somewhere but it was a sad enough effort.

“I can’t think of anyone. Other than my father, and I really don’t think even he’d stoop to this level.” He was aiming for a light-hearted riposte but couldn’t miss the way Merlin’s eyes narrowed. Arthur hurried on. “Do you really believe someone deliberately tried to murder us?”

Lance clearly was a poor liar as he hummed and ha’d and dissembled as much as he could while his expression was screaming ‘yes’ all the while. Arthur exchanged a glance with Merlin, who shrugged slightly, but neither man pressed it further.

In the end, Arthur’s assumption that he wouldn’t be able to add much to what Merlin had already said was proved true. Given the speed everything had happened and the resultant head injury, most of the evening in question was something of a blur. Except for kissing Merlin. Arthur could recall every nanosecond of that.

Lance sighed. “Well, the fire investigation team is still working, so we’ll see what they can tell us. They’ve already worked out the fire started in the entrance hallway and the hall had been doused with petrol, which pretty much means it’s a given that it was started deliberately.”

Arthur saw Merlin shiver and scowled at Lance.

Lance caught the expression and shrugged in an attempt at an apology but didn’t do anything to mitigate the seriousness of what he was saying. So, Arthur thought as he reassessed Lance’s character, compassionate but intrinsically honest. 

Lance stood up. “I need both of you to be careful. It may be you’ve just got caught up in some feud and one of the other tenants was the target, but until we know for sure you have to accept this might've been aimed at one of you. I’ll come by and see you at the house when you’re released. 

Lance left them with a final exhortation to be careful and a friendly smile at Merlin that raised all of Arthur’s hackles, to Merlin’s obvious amusement, though Lance seemed oblivious as he turned and cast the same smile at Arthur.

Arthur managed to return it before turning on his side away from Merlin’s sudden scowl and drifting off to sleep yet again.

**

When they were released from hospital, Arthur found himself occupying an attic flat at the top of Gaius’ sprawling Victorian town house. Arthur loved the flat the moment he stepped through the door. It exuded a warmth and charm that had him smiling even as he took in the space. One good sized open plan lounge and kitchen, with glazed doors opened out onto a small roof terrace. The bedroom was a good size with an en suite. The whole space had obviously been updated in the past few years and was modern and well-designed.

“Gaius, it’s lovely. Thank you.” He beamed at Gaius and then noticed the expression on Merlin’s face. “Merlin?” Arthur felt suddenly off-kilter and swallowed down the sense of belonging. “Is this…? Would you rather I didn’t stay here?”

Merlin’s frown altered immediately, “God, Arthur don’t think that. It’s great you’re here really. It’s just – “ he cast an agonised glance at Gaius, mumbled something about getting the rest of Arthur’s stuff from the car and dashed out, leaving it to Gaius to explain.

“Merlin’s mother died of cancer last year. She was a fiercely independent woman and insistent her illness wouldn't hold Merlin back at all. As soon as she told me, I had this work done. She hadn’t wanted to tell Merlin she was ill at all, but I persuaded her to let him know and to let him help her. In the end she agreed and she moved in six months before she died. Her life was fairly full until just a few weeks before the end – and Merlin and I nursed her. It was hard on him, but I’m glad he did it.”

“He must hate me for moving into her space.”

“Not at all, my boy, not at all. It’s the best thing that could happen for him. You’ll see.” And Gaius smiled in a manner that unnerved Arthur. “Merlin has his own bedroom, bathroom and study, but he tends to eat with me. I’d like it if you did, too.” 

Merlin chose that moment to reappear, staggering up the last few steps with a heavy case, and he grinned at Arthur, almost masking the sadness in his eyes.

“Is this completely filled with books? Or rocks? Don’t tell me it’s your childhood rock collection, Arthur?”

Arthur played along. “You’ll be jealous when you know what it is.” He paused a moment for effect. “It’s my entire My Little Pony collection – complete, Merlin, complete.”

Merlin swooned. “Oh my God, we’ll be best friends forever now I know you love My Little Pony.”

They were both laughing, while Gaius was rolling his eyes. Somehow, Arthur thought it was something Gaius might be doing quite frequently from now on. 

_Best friends forever._

Of course.

**

A few days after Arthur moved in they were sitting round the kitchen table, finishing off their dinner when he asked casually, “Tell me what’s on the laptop, Merlin.”

Merlin choked on his last mouthful and there were a few moments while he sorted himself out. Arthur realised he was hoping the question would be lost in the general upset and so when Merlin was calm again, Arthur simply met his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not back at work yet,” Merlin protested. “I didn’t want to bother you with anything until you were better.”

“I’m fine.” Arthur turned his attention to Gaius. “You’re being very quiet. I assume you know what this is about?”

“I do. We've a meeting scheduled in your diary for next month. Merlin’s been putting together a report. It wasn't something we could raise with the previous Director, but we felt you'd be more interested in what we've discovered. Or to be accurate, what Merlin's discovered.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Merlin explained. “My doctorate was on thefts and looting from archaeological sites across the world, and the current UK and international legislative framework. My first degree was law before I decided to concentrate on archaeology.” Merlin grinned at Arthur’s obvious surprise. “What? I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I’m not as young as you think I am, either.” He blushed and cleared his throat.  
“Through the Ph. D., I made a lot of contacts in the police force and the legal profession. I do some consultancy for the police and I cover most of the Treasure Act work in Wales. A couple of months ago Lance came to me with a number of open cases and asked me to look at them. He felt that something was off about them, but couldn’t work out what or why they were ringing such alarm bells.”

Arthur leaned forward, interested in spite of himself, although Gaius’ remarks about the former Director were adding more fuel to the fire of his own suspicions. 

Merlin glanced at Arthur, gauging his reaction and smiled slightly before he took up his tale again.

“There's been a marked increase in thefts of archaeological and social history items from museums and sites around the UK. But up until recently it’s been small stuff going missing and mainly from the prehistoric or Dark Ages up to the Anglo-Saxon period. Bizarrely, some of it turns up again. Not all of it, though. There’s been no attempt to sell anything to any of the dealers Lance knows about and the stuff that’s been found has turned up in random places. Quite a few thefts had taken place even before the police connected them because on the surface there isn’t much they have in common. Recently… recently it’s been getting even weirder. Some of the stones from Temple Wood stone circle outside Kilmartin were stolen. Lance had another look at what was happening and realised there's been a marked increase in damage to archaeological sites in the past six months, as well as the thefts. Then last month there was an attempt to destroy Newgrange.”

Arthur let loose a low whistle.

“The police are downplaying it and so far it doesn’t look like the press has worked out there’s anything going on. I’ve been helping Lance by pulling all the information on the objects and sites together to see if there’s any common denominator.”

“And that’s all the information in your laptop and notebook.” Arthur sat up. “I know someone deliberately set the fire but do you really believe someone tried to kill you to get rid of the evidence?” It was a mad idea. Attempted murder just to cover up theft and vandalism.

“Arthur…” Merlin’s face was pale and he was biting at his lip. Arthur looked up, swallowed, and looked away again. “Arthur, the ladder was there that morning because I remember looking at it. It had been deliberately cut away. Someone tried very hard to make sure we couldn’t get out.” Merlin was restless, hands twisting in his lap.

Gaius appeared serene, but there was a tightness around his mouth and eyes, a careful watchfulness when he looked between Arthur and Merlin. Arthur wondered what the hell was going on here.

“The laptop wasn’t backed up, was it?” Arthur said.

“It is now,” Gaius answered after a short silence, while Merlin muttered something about tea and shot to his feet. Arthur stared at him, wondering whether now was the time to have an epic paddy about people who neglected to back up their work, god damn it, Merlin.

“I’ve made several copies and lodged them in different places,” Gaius said, forestalling him. “I’ve also run off copies of Merlin’s written notes – though how anyone else could decipher them is beyond me.”

There was silence, other than the sounds of Merlin making the promised tea, and Arthur thought round what he'd been told. A memory of his first meeting with Merlin stirred.

“Do you think the Druids have anything to do with this?” he asked.

A mug of tea, made just as he liked it, was set in front of him before Merlin sat down and answered. “That was the first thing I looked at, but I haven’t found any links so far. The Druids are a batty bunch but are mainly harmless – irritating but nothing more. Mostly, they've some idea they want any human remains from the Iron Age onwards reburied according to Druidic rites.” Merlin sighed and shook his head in a sure sign of his own exasperation. “So far they’ve not been able to satisfy anyone, pretty much in any museum, that the remains they identify with were Druids themselves, or the rites would be welcomed by them whether they were or not. Nor can they manage to explain to me the validity or accuracy of the rites they’re suggesting anyway. If you want my professional opinion as an archaeologist - they’re all stark raving bonkers.”

Arthur had listened to this with growing fascination and a certain amount of amusement at Merlin’s irritation.

“So this group has no actual links to the original Druids?”

“None at all. There was a revival in interest a couple of hundred years ago but the Neo-Druids are mostly a 20th century construct – someone along the line went to Glastonbury and smoked too much funny stuff.” Merlin slumped in his seat, long fingers clenched around his mug of tea. He was staring disconsolately into its depths.

Gaius smothered obvious amusement with a cough. “The Druids want to come to the museum and … confer … with the Red Lady of Paviland about her situation.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Can’t wait to see their reactions when she tells them she pre-dates the original Druids by around 30,000 years – oh and she’s a bloke.”

Arthur snorted tea out of his nose.

When he’d recovered, and had scowled at Merlin, who simply laughed back at him, he asked, “And what about the original Druids?” An image flashed through his mind then from the night of the fire; a head of fair hair he was sure he recognised. A headache started to bloom behind his eyes.

“Who knows,” Gaius said. “Contemporary Roman accounts have been discussed ad nauseam and there’s been plenty of speculation. However, most do seem to agree that the actual practice of the faith died out during or shortly after the Roman occupation.”

“So if not Druids, Neo-druids or theft for profit, what’s the motivation?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. “A few items have been sold – those that are more generic, like bronze axes or some Roman brooches. It’s not really clear whether they’re part of the same group of thefts to be honest. One or two of the larger items haven't been recovered at all, which suggests they could’ve been stolen to order. Some have been found in pieces – deliberately destroyed. There’s a whole raft of stuff that’s just disappeared. If we could work out what the single motivation is, it might help us, but for the moment it just doesn’t make much sense.”

“No thefts from us, as yet,” Arthur said. He would've been informed, but it made sense to check in case anything had happened before his tenure. 

There was silence for a moment before Gaius said. “Nothing related to archaeology, but Eric Godwyn has begun a full reconciliation of the artworks on paper collection.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows and it was Merlin who provided the detail. “That was Kanen’s particular area of interest.”

The very thought of a museum director stealing from the collection turned Arthur’s stomach. It was by no means unknown, though thankfully extremely rare, and modern technology meant that collections were better maintained, catalogued and traceable. Having met Kanen, though, he could believe it. The memory of the man rooting around in the Director’s desk resurfaced and Arthur made a mental note to get Leon to go over the desk inch by inch. He buried his head in his hands. “And I’m just being told about this now?”

“It was difficult under Kanen to raise any issues, Arthur,” Gaius said. “We've rather got out of the habit of trusting our Director. Leon's aware and I’m sure he'll brief you once there's clear proof.”

Arthur nodded. “I assume the art department is keeping an eye on the auction catalogues.” He glanced at Merlin. “Keep working on your report. I want to see it as soon as you’ve finalised it – the earlier the better.” To Gaius, he said, “I assume you've already increased security – at the museums and the excavation site?”

“I took the liberty of hiring night security at the dig site.”

Arthur was glad to hear what Gaius had arranged. It was a reasonable step to take.

“I’ll ring Leon tomorrow and arrange for him to come over to talk about this.” And so saying, he changed the subject, moving away from work to discuss cricket with Gaius. Arthur was grateful to have Leon as his deputy and had been pleased to recognise the friendship growing between them. Gaius, too, had always been something of a mentor but now Arthur felt a much closer relationship. It seemed Arthur’s need to interact with the staff and build trust and confidence had helped him strip away some of the barriers he'd suffered with personally over the years. Arthur ignored the increasingly annoyed glances being cast by Merlin, still cross about the lack of back-ups of what was obviously crucial data. And besides, since their kiss before the fire started, he’d been avoiding being alone with Merlin as much as possible. 

Eventually, Arthur finished the glass of wine Gaius had insisted they share with the evening meal and headed carefully up the stairs. Despite maintaining to all and sundry how he was recovering well when anyone asked, he was still feeling the effects of the concussion. It was a fine evening so he opened the doors to the terrace, intending to sit outside and enjoy the late sunshine. The door burst open behind him but Arthur didn’t turn.

He didn’t have to.

“What exactly is wrong with you?”

“Do come in, Merlin. Please – feel free.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Arthur turned then, doing his best to maintain his calm façade and trying not to give away the fact his pulse was thumping. “What do you want, Merlin?”

“I want to know why you won’t talk about what happened at my flat.”

“I really don’t think we have to talk about it. I'd too much to drink and I nearly made a mistake.”

“Oh, thanks, great. I’m a mistake. Brilliant.”

“I’m your boss, Merlin. It’s inappropriate. It doesn’t matter how much I want it to happen – it can’t.”

There was silence for a few moments, before Merlin smiled and Arthur experienced a certain alarm as he tried to work out why the quality of the atmosphere around them had changed. Thinking back through his own words was enough of a clue.

“Hell,” he said, and without another word he wandered onto the terrace and settled into one of the two seats. He wasn’t the least surprised when Merlin occupied the other.

“You want me.”

“No need to sound quite so smug about it, Merlin. And I’ve already said it can’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“I’m your boss.” Apparently it needed repeating.

“You’re not,” Merlin took one look at Arthur’s raised eyebrows and qualified. “Well, you are, but you’re not my line manager. Gaius is. He’s been the only father I’ve ever known and nobody's ever suggested that I've received any kind of preferential treatment – rather the opposite some times.”

There was a long silence.

“What’s the real reason, Arthur? If you want me, and it’s not because of work – what’s the real reason?”

Apart from the way you’re unpicking me? Apart from how one look, one question and I want to tell you everything; spill out the miserable story of my sorry life; hide my face against your chest and let you hold me? How when I look at you I see an eternity? That I feel as if I’ve already known you forever?

He shrugged. There was no other response he could manage without spilling his guts. 

“We can take it slowly,” Merlin offered and Arthur recognised it as the only compromise he was going to be allowed. Apparently Merlin had set his sights on Arthur Pendragon and there seemed to be little he could do to push him away – even if he'd wanted to.

“I’m barely two months into this job, Merlin. There’s so much to think about there, let alone the ramifications of what you’ve told me tonight.”

“Slow it is then.” Merlin grinned at him and stood, dropping a kiss on the top of Arthur’s head as he passed him. 

Arthur was left feeling as if he'd been run over by a benevolent steamroller.

**

Merlin removed his glasses and pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying to massage away the impending headache. Ever since the fire at the Caerleon flat he'd been reviewing the notes he'd taken about the thefts, trying to work out what could be linking them, but so far he'd come across nothing that made sense. He was back at the dig during the day and was currently sitting crouched over the laptop in the finds hut, adding information to his database about the latest theft.

A small museum close to the site of another stone circle in Wiltshire had been robbed two days previously, but the thieves had ignored a solid gold torc and had instead taken a piece of carved bone. While Merlin was glad Lance had come to him for help on this puzzle, he was becoming less clear whether he'd be able to shed any light on the reasoning behind the thefts as time passed and the database grew.

The door to the hut burst open and Morgana Gorlois almost fell through the doorway. “You have to come and look at this.” 

Without a word, Merlin saved his document and shut down the laptop, surprised at Morgana’s veiled excitement as she fidgeted while she waited. 

“What is it?”.

“Oh, no,” she said. “This you have to see.”

Merlin felt no more comfortable in Morgana’s presence than he had when he first met her, although since the fire her attitude seemed to have softened somewhat and he didn’t now get the hostile vibes so characteristic of their earlier meetings. She still didn’t like him, he was astute enough to realise, but at least he didn’t feel as if she was actively hoping he'd spontaneously combust every time she looked at him. Morgause and Mordred also seemed a little friendlier, although it was difficult enough at the best of times to get much conversation out of Mordred.

For now, he accepted Morgana would say no more and followed her to the site of the trench she was working on. He made his way through the excited group of diggers and stared down at Morgause. Dressed in combat trousers, a vest top and with a bandana keeping her hair back and a smear of dirt across her face, she'd no right looking so beautiful. Merlin may be gay, but he could always appreciate beauty.

He stared down. Speaking of beauty.

“Mosaic?” he whispered.

“Mosaic,” Morgause said.

Only a small patch had been uncovered, but it obvious what they'd found. It was a sinuous curve of small brown tiles set against a dark blue background.

“Looks like it might be a sea serpent – some kind of creature like that.” Merlin was conscious of thinking aloud.

“We’re supposed to be finishing up this week, aren’t we?” Mordred asked.

“I’ll talk to Gaius. We’ll need to finish excavating this area and either lift or recover the mosaic.” He thought briefly of the recent spate of thefts and bit his lip.

“Is there a problem with funding?” Morgause’s voice was as cool as always. “I’m sure the local society could help.”

Merlin smiled at her then. “Thank you. I’ll talk to Gaius and he can discuss it with Arthur - the Director - and we’ll see what the budget position is.” He glanced at his watch. “We’re almost done for the day. Could you cover it for the night? In the morning we’ll see if geophys can sort out where any walls might be before we start excavating it fully.”

She nodded and he turned to walk away.

_Merlin…_

Puzzled, he turned as he wondered who'd called his name, but no-one was even looking in his direction. The other diggers were drifting back to their own areas and beginning to close down the site for the night. Morgana, Morgause and Mordred were staring down at the patch of mosaic, deep in conversation. As he watched, Mordred looked up and then spoke to the others before they broke apart.

Curiouser and curiouser, Merlin thought.

 

**

The opening of the new art exhibition had gone well, Arthur thought as he let himself into the house. He smiled, wondering at how he felt so at home in this place after only a few weeks. In all honesty, he admitted to himself, he'd felt at home here since the first moment he'd walked through the door. It only took him so long to realise it because he'd never experienced a feeling like it before. Gaius had created a real home here, even though he had no actual relatives of his own as far as Arthur knew. Yet everyone who entered the house was made to feel immediately welcome. There'd been another moment, too, when Arthur recognised Merlin was Gaius’ son in all the ways that mattered. On the heels of this revelation, was another. Gaius was treating Arthur like a son, too. All of a sudden, Arthur Pendragon seemed to have acquired a family and friends – and possibly something more.

Gaius had been at the event Arthur had just attended, and had said he expected Merlin to show up, too, but as the evening had gone on and there'd been no sign of Merlin, Arthur had tried to tamp down his disappointment. Instead, he'd made his speech, welcoming everyone to the museum and thanking the Culture Minister for attending, the staff for their hard work, and even remembered to acknowledge the exhibition sponsors at the appropriate time. 

Arthur had even managed it all bilingually, thanks to Merlin and Gaius coaching him intensively and a part of him had wanted Merlin there to hear him. The evening had dragged on but Arthur had stayed until the very end, ensuring everyone who wished to speak with him had the opportunity, as well as taking the same opportunity to begin building the relationships he'd need to be an effective national museum director. All in all a successful evening, but now exhaustion was creeping in. It had been less than two months since the fire and while Arthur mostly felt well, there were times when he was aware he was still in a recovery period.

And not just him, Arthur realised as he spotted the figure on the settee in the main room. He put on one of the table lamps and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of Merlin curled on the sofa, fast asleep. Merlin was in the trousers and dress shirt of his one good suit; one sock was on and the other was on the floor beside his shoes. The suit jacket was tossed carelessly across the armchair. Merlin had obviously been in the middle of getting ready when he'd fallen asleep and for some reason the very fact he'd intended going to the launch despite being clearly exhausted, sent warmth to curl in Arthur’s gut. Even through his own misgivings, Arthur couldn't help himself and he leaned forward to brush a hand through the soft dark hair and drop a kiss on Merlin’s forehead.

With a deep indrawn breath, Merlin opened his eyes and blinked up at him, sleepy and confused, before he shot up.

“What time is it?” Merlin squinted and looked wildly about him. “Oh, God, Arthur, I’m so sorry. I’ve missed it, haven’t I?”

For some reason Merlin’s dismay eradicated the last remnants of Arthur’s disappointment and he chuckled.

“Looks like you needed the sleep more. You didn’t miss much, anyway. T’eisau paned?”

Merlin’s smile was warm. “Da iawn. Te, plis.”

“Llaeth – dim sigwr.”

“Ie, diolch.” 

Arthur wandered through to the kitchen, divesting himself of his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves, immediately feeling more comfortable. As he filled the kettle he heard Merlin follow him through, but was not expecting the arms that slipped round his middle and the gentle press of lips to the nape of his neck.

He stayed very, very still, controlling his breathing and ignoring the increased beat of his heart.

Merlin pressed against him, cheek resting against Arthur’s shoulder as he let out a hum of sleepy contentment.

“I thought we were taking this slow?” Arthur said.

“This is slow,” Merlin said. “If it was up to me we would've been sleeping together weeks ago.” He tightened his grip.

“Merlin,” Arthur began, his voice a breathy sigh as the lengthening proximity began to have an effect.

In response, Merlin hugged him and stepped away, leaving Arthur to inhale a shaky breath, covering up his reaction as much as possible by fussing around with kettle, mugs and all the other accoutrements associated with making the promised cup of tea.

Merlin took pity on him. “Tell me about the evening, then. Where’s Gaius?”

“He went home with Alice.”

Alice, the sweet woman who ran the front of house cleaning team with an aura of gentle encouragement covering a fierce commitment to the museum and her role in perfecting its public face. Arthur had already run foul of her once, by suggesting a few improvements. He had, he admitted to himself, been handed his arse in no uncertain terms – with only a smile and a few sentences Arthur had been left in no doubt about the museum director’s right to interfere with her team – he had no right at all. Arthur’s appreciation for her had risen considerably, especially over the following weeks, when he realised just how right she was.

He grinned at Merlin over the lip of his mug. “Yes, he told me not to expect him home tonight. And then he winked, Merlin. He winked.”

Merlin laughed. “That old dog, honestly! So, tell me who else was there?”

They chatted about the evening, and Arthur marvelled at how comfortable he felt with Merlin, and didn't even attempt to withdraw his leg when Merlin smiled and moved his own so his foot settled on top of Arthur’s. Instead, he rolled his eyes and returned his smile, unaware of the soft affection in his eyes and wondering why Merlin flushed and looked shyly down.

Merlin cleared his throat and said, “I haven’t had a chance to tell you what happened at the dig today.” At Arthur’s raised eyebrows, he continued, “Looks like we have a mosaic. We’ve just found one tiny part of it and there’s no knowing how extensive it is, or if it’s damaged. Arthur, we can’t possibly close up the dig by the end of the week until we know –“

Arthur stopped him with a raised hand. “I’m not talking about this outside work,” he said. “Talk to Gaius and let me know what it means for the budget. I’ll give you next week to start with. Is that enough time to work out what you’re dealing with?”

Merlin grinned. “Yeah, it should be. Thanks, Arthur.”

“Don’t thank me yet – I’ll make the decision based on the facts, Merlin.”

Merlin looked surprised. “It didn’t occur to me to think anything else. Everyone knows you’re straight as a die, Arthur.” He reconsidered his words and grinned again. “Well, in terms of honesty, anyway.” He yawned widely.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Merlin, you’re spouting nonsense. Go to bed before I have to carry you there.”

“Mmmmm, now that sounds like a good idea.”

Arthur shook his head, getting up and slotting their mugs into the dishwasher. He hesitated for a moment, looking down at a sleepy Merlin before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep, idiot.”

**

Merlin stared down at the results of the geophys survey. “Gwaine, those are walls, aren’t they?” As ever, he found it difficult to interpret the data.

“Looks like it to me.” And as ever, Gwaine was standing far too close for comfort. 

Merlin had known him for some years by now, however, and instead of feeling uncomfortable as he had in those early days, now he just sighed in exasperation and shoved Gwaine out of the way. He ignored the sniggers of amusement from some of the site supervisors, as well as Gwaine’s own grin, and instead led the discussion onto the most appropriate method of excavation. Morgause had proven her worth in terms of technique, knowledge and understanding of the site and had been working as a supervisor since the start. The discovery had been hers too and as little as he liked her, Merlin wasn't about to bring his own personal feelings to bear.

“Morgause, would you lead, please. If you work with Morgana and Mordred, and – how many others do you think?”

Merlin was surprised at the expression in her eyes, even though it was quickly hidden as she dipped her head to look down at the data, and Merlin wondered if he'd imagined the respect he'd seen there.

She took a few moments to consider. “We don’t want too many because it's a small area, but there's a lot of work. If I could have three students it would give me a team of six, which should do it.”

“Who do you want?”

Her eyes scanned the students, most of whom were standing around waiting for work to be apportioned. “Hannah, Gwen and Percival.” 

Merlin nodded. Those would've been his choice, too. All three had worked hard throughout the dig and had shown a level of drive and commitment missing in many of the others. “Okay – you gather them up and I’ll sort the rest out. Let me know if you need me for anything, otherwise.” He squashed down the distrust he couldn’t quite shake. “It’s your call.”

He'd surprised her again, Merlin realised, but had no time to spare thinking about it. He needed to get everyone working and then he needed to develop some ideas for Gaius’ report, as well as continuing to work on Lance’s odd thefts, especially as Lance had agreed to visit Merlin at the site later in the afternoon to discuss how far Merlin had got. Which wasn't very far at all. He sighed and turned his attention to the other supervisors.

**

Merlin worked steadily through the morning, taking a break now and again to walk around the site and check in with everyone. He'd sent through some information to Gaius and was looking at illustrations of some of the items involved in the thefts when he became aware of Mordred standing silently by his side. He jumped.

“Shit, Mordred.” He pressed his hand against his chest. “You’ve got to stop sneaking up on people.”

“I said your name three times,” Mordred said, and handed over a mug of tea.

“Thanks.” It was a day of surprises. All of the M and Ms, as he'd taken to calling them internally, tended to avoid him like the plague – although it had to be said Merlin wasn't complaining, quite happy to have as little to do with them as possible.

Mordred was frowning down at the papers on Merlin’s desk. “Patterns,” he said, out of the blue.

“What?”

Mordred pointed at a couple of the items – a stone ball from the west of Scotland, a piece of carved bone, a lovespoon from a Welsh museum. “Concentric circles are used on all of them. There was a time when people thought that made them magical.”

“There’s no such thing as magic.” Merlin was quick to rebut the inference.

Mordred stared at him and for a moment Merlin would almost have said that Mordred was nonplussed, before he shrugged. “I didn’t say there was. I read the art press – all of these objects have been stolen recently. Is your interest related to your Ph.D research?”

“You’ve read my thesis?”

“Oh yes. It was fascinating.” The blue gaze was frank and was as warm as Merlin had ever seen it. “Are you helping the police?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, if I was a policeman dealing with this, I’d want your expertise.”

Merlin chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment – and thanks for –“ He indicated the papers, too relieved to have any kind of link, even if he'd been too close to it to pick it up. And too set in his own views about magic to even consider what other people might believe. “And thanks for the tea, too.” Merlin knew his grin was friendlier than it had ever been in their previous dealings and it took the edge off the fact he hadn't answered Mordred’s question.

“You’re welcome,” Mordred said, and then drifted away as silently as he'd arrived.  
Merlin kept an eye out and wasn't the least surprised later to see the three of them in a huddle, obviously in the midst of a heated discussion.

Carefully now, he went through all of the illustrations of the stolen material, taking the time to look at the decoration. Every piece was decorated in some way, he realised, and even if not all showed the concentric circles Mordred had identified, there were other motifs that also repeated.

Magic? 

Merlin didn’t believe in magic; all his life he'd hated any shows including magicians with an absolute passion, but he accepted now his distaste didn’t preclude the possibility that there were people out there who believed magic was real. His forehead hit the desk and he groaned. Please, God, not the wacky Druids again, he pleaded. Then, with grim determination, he opened the laptop and started Googling anything to do with the magical arts, having the distinct feeling he was just about to be scarred for life. Family and friends had always laughed at his distaste for magic; something about the very word made his skin crawl and his stomach clench. Merlin had never cared enough to work out why; he just favoured total avoidance.

By the time Lance arrived later in the afternoon, Merlin had three distinct recurring patterns and had slotted the information into a table for Lance to consider. 

Merlin grinned as he saw Lance walk across the grass towards the hut, recalling the early days of their acquaintance and the huge crush he'd nurtured. Arthur’s arrival had been a revelation, as Merlin had rather abruptly learned the difference between the pale imitation of emotion he felt for Lance once faced with his overwhelming reaction to Arthur’s presence in his life: the difference between surface attraction and love. Just as well it happened, Merlin thought, as he pulled Lance into a hug, because his friend was straight.

“Everything okay?” Lance asked. His glance took in Merlin and the dig site, pausing briefly to settle on one of the students before moving on. “No more attacks?”

“You really think the fire was meant for me?” Merlin still found it difficult to believe anyone would deliberately want to hurt him, although he did wonder about the dislike the M and Ms held for him and which seemed to have no rational explanation. But then, he accepted, he'd no rational explanation for his dislike and distrust of them either.

“You saw yourself - the ladder was removed and I’ve told you there were signs of a powerful accelerant being used, according to the fire investigation team. Merlin, I’m sorry, but someone definitely tried to harm you and there may be another attempt. I wish you’d be more careful.”

“I am being careful, Lance, I promise.” Merlin changed the subject, not wanting to discuss it. “Come and see what we’ve found.” 

He led Lance across to the site of the mosaic, stopping at the edge so they could look down at the gradually emerging form. Merlin looked across to where Morgana and Gwen were working side by side and chatting amicably. Gwen was a kind girl and sweet, but was blessed with enough humour and spirit to save her from insipidity. Of them all, she was the only one who'd managed to infiltrate the little clique the M and Ms presented to the world. Some hadn’t tried; easy-going, happy-go-lucky, flirt-with-anyone Gwaine had refused to have anything to do with Morgana and only shrugged when Merlin had asked why, but Gwen, after an initial reserve, had thawed towards Morgana in particular and the pair were fast becoming as thick as thieves. As he watched, half-listening to the conversation between Morgause and Lance, Gwen said something and then launched herself out of the dig and ran off towards the portaloos at the side of the site.

Morgana stood and stretched before she turned around. Her gaze fell on Lance and even from this distance, Merlin witnessed the way her expression altered. She walked across to them.

“Morgana, this is Lance.” Merlin introduced them.

Her features twisted into something that looked oddly like remorse. “Yes,” she said. “Of course.” She glanced over her shoulder and when she turned to him it was as if some weight had lifted from her. She smiled, and Merlin thought it was the truest expression he'd ever seen on her face. “You must let me introduce you to Gwen. I think you’ll like her.”

**

The work on uncovering the mosaic progressed slowly. The rest of the site had been backfilled and apart from a couple of people working on the finds, the only remaining diggers were Morgause’s team. It meant Merlin had to have more to do with her and the other two, but at least he'd the leavening effect of Gwen and the other two students. Gwen in particular played a soothing, almost brokering role between Merlin and the M and Ms. Once she'd got over her own ambivalence to Morgana she'd proved to be the perfect bridge. For some reason Morgana was also taking great delight in the burgeoning friendship between Lance and Gwen.

She was gently teasing Gwen now and Merlin could hear Gwen’s flustered rebuttal as he walked along the edge of the section. Merlin was indulging in his own baiting, too, casually suggesting to Lance that their briefing sessions take place out at the dig site and casting sly comments about the sudden increase in Lance’s need to discuss the thefts.

Merlin grinned fondly. It was a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, watching the way any comment caused either Lance or Gwen to blush and stammer as they attempted to refute the obvious attraction, neither believing the other could possibly be interested in them.

It was so sweet it should have been nauseating, except they were so right together it made everyone else around them want to push them together and let them get on with the perfect life that beckoned. Whenever Merlin saw them together he was almost overwhelmed at how right it seemed. The sound of a car arriving caught his attention, drawing it away from Gwen and Morgana, but he grinned as he recognised the vehicle.

“Oh, look, it’s Lance.” Merlin laughed aloud as Gwen’s head swung round so quickly it almost gave her whiplash. “Oh, my God.” He just managed to speak through his giggling. “You looked like a meerkat just then.” Gwen’s look of absolute outrage finished him and he sank down to sit on the turf, suddenly feeling a sense of real liking for Morgana, too, as she doubled over and mirth sent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Lance wandered over, features puzzled and Gwen leapt out of the trench.

“It’s lunch-time. Lance and I are going to the pub. You’re not invited.” Her hand shot out and curled around the startled man’s fingers. “Come on.” She stalked away, tugging as he stood still and open-mouthed.

In the next instant he grinned and let himself be towed away.

Merlin watched them go with a sense of satisfaction so profound it shook him. He looked at Morgana and he could see his own emotion mirrored there, though hers was tempered with a deep sadness he couldn't account for. As he stared, she swiped at her face and took a deep breath. When she turned and noted his regard she raised her chin.

Merlin felt something within him settle and he scrambled to his feet. “Gwen’s right,” he said. “It’s time for a break.” For the first time since he'd met Morgana he didn’t feel uncomfortable with her and reached out a hand to help her out of the trench. 

Morgana looked surprised and wary and a little pleased. She accepted the grip and jumped lightly up onto the ground. Nodding her thanks, she released his hand and headed off towards where her sister was busy with some paperwork.

Standing at the edge of the dig, Merlin looked over the area cleared so far and marvelled at the sinuous curves and the level of detail. He hunkered down for a close look. Only this morning they'd uncovered one great golden eye and he was captivated, seeing it cleaned off and gleaming. 

A cloud passed over the sun. At least that’s what he thought happened. The eye was made up of small tiles. It couldn’t possibly have closed and reopened. Just for a moment he’d been certain it was actually seeing him. He shivered.

 

**

Arthur stared around at the chaos in the entrance hall, blinking in disbelief at the various people wandering around in robes and chanting. He was grateful Merlin was nowhere around. His friend’s usual genial acceptance of the wild and the wacky was distinctly missing where the Neo-Druids were concerned and Arthur had yet to see him show anything but disdain and a deep distaste for them. What he would have made of this circus was anybody’s guess. Taking a deep breath, he weaved through the milling crowds towards his head of security who was currently locked in a heated discussion with one of the Druids.

“Good morning,” he broke into the argument. “Geraint, I'd be grateful if you could brief me.”

The stranger with Geraint immediately launched into speech but Arthur held his hand up to stop him, exhibiting an unconscious authority that silenced the man. “Thank you, sir, but I'd appreciate an update from my Head of Security, first. I won’t keep you a moment.” He cast a bland smile at the man and turned his attention to Geraint, drawing him to one side to create an illusion of privacy.

“I assume we didn’t get any warning of this?” 

Geraint shook his head. “Apparently they’ve got some wind of thefts from museums and are now insisting that they and only they are the safest custodians for the Red Lady.”

“I see.”

“We have three school parties booked in for sessions today in the gallery and Sian is tearing her hair out. I’ve asked Tris and Izzy to stay close to the Red Lady.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “That’s good to know.” Tris and Izzy were ex-army and both tough and capable, and Sian was their extremely capable head learning officer. Arthur had no doubt they'd be able to handle any attempt to disrupt the smooth running of the museum. “Well, technically the robed gentlemen are members of the public and have every right to be here.” He thought for a few moments, doing a quick tally and seeing less than 20 people who were seemingly part of the group. “Here’s the plan. You hold the bulk of them here, allowing them to go into the gallery six at a time and use the fact it's busy with pre-booked school parties as the reason. I’d better talk to this chap as he seems to be in charge and try to get them to leave as soon as possible.”

Geraint nodded and Arthur turned back to the man waiting impatiently for his attention. 

“I don’t believe we've been introduced. I’m Dr Arthur Pendragon, the Museum Director. Perhaps we could have a word in private?” He held out his hand, getting some measure of the man from the firm handshake. 

“I am Owain ap Lewis and I represent the Council of Druids in South Wales.”

Arthur nodded his acknowledgement and led the way up to the boardroom, Geraint following on behind but stopping at the door. As Arthur entered the room he happened to glance at the bronze plaque of the dragon on the wall and his steps faltered as it seemed to shift and move for a second. Arthur shook his head and offered Lewis a seat. Arthur gave him a few moments to get settled before he began.

“This is a public museum, Mr Lewis, and as such you and your group are more than welcome to visit at any time. However, a large group arriving unplanned, as has happened today, does have health and safety implications for us. I’m sure you can understand the reasons. Today, for example, we've three separate groups of children in and we've an extra duty of care to them.”

“We do understand that, Dr Pendragon. However, our demands have long been ignored and we've been forced into a position where we felt we'd no other option but to make our protest in the strongest terms.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Your demands?” he asked, his voice quiet and the same authority was in his tone again, shifting it from genial to stern in a heartbeat.

Lewis shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “The Red Lady deserves a reburial with all attendant rites. She was a great Druid Queen.”

Somewhere in his head, Arthur swore he could hear Merlin sputtering and laughing like a hyena.

“Really. Well, if you'd like to present your evidence?”

“Evidence?”

“For you to make such an assertion, I assume you have reasons and evidence to support it.”

There was silence for a few moments before Lewis spoke. “The history and magic of the Druids is not for outsiders.”

“Yes, I rather thought that might be your response. Well, let me give you mine…  
As I’ve stated, you're welcome to visit at any time. We'd prefer notice if a large group is coming, to ensure you have the best possible experience without impacting upon that of other visitors. If a large group arrives without an appointment, we reserve the right to do as we're doing today, and will ask you to enter the gallery in small numbers. 

“The Red Lady of Paviland is part of the museum collection, and will remain part of the museum collection. That collection is held in trust for the people of Wales: all the people of Wales, not just one small group.”

Lewis opened his mouth as if to protest but Arthur refused to give him the opportunity and continued on, determined to establish his opinion and his position without any ambiguity whatsoever.

“There's no evidence to suggest any links whatsoever between the Druids and the Red Lady and if you’re not willing to divulge any information you have, I've no other option but to proceed on that basis. Furthermore, there are no extant sources providing adequate evidence of Druidic burial rites. Nor are we able to verify that the Red Lady was a Druid. In fact, you're no doubt aware the remains have been dated and are actually thirty thousand years old.” Arthur stared at Lewis and delivered his final word on the subject. “Within the museum, we handle all human remains with respect as laid down in the relevant laws and codes of conduct.”

Arthur was aware he'd been sounding more and more pompous with every word that left his mouth, and he could see Lewis’ lips thinning into disapproval. It reminded him of the last expression he'd seen on his father’s face. 

“I hope I've made the museum’s stance quite clear.”

“You've made your own views perfectly obvious, Dr Pendragon, including the fact you despise my religious beliefs. I'll take legal advice on how to deal with that, as the Druidic Council will on what becomes of Our Lady. I'll take your response back to the Arch Druid.”

The veiled allusion to the Red Lady as the Madonna was nearly Arthur’s undoing, but he kept his face straight. “I’m quite willing to talk to the Arch Druid myself.”

“The Arch Druid speaks with no-one who is not of the faith, Dr Pendragon. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to compose myself before I visit Our Lady.”

Arthur couldn’t help himself, and as he showed Lewis out of the boardroom and into Geraint’s capable presence, he said, “You do realise the remains are actually those of a man, don’t you?”

Lewis twitched and gathered his robes around him, but said nothing.

Arthur grinned to himself and turned to close the door. As he did so he distinctly heard a low, grumbling laugh. Frowning, he walked into the room and glanced round. It was empty. He shook his head and put it from his mind.

**

“Druids, Arthur? You let the fucking Druids into my gallery?” Merlin was all but screeching at him.

Arthur had had a very long day and scowled at Merlin, before snapping. “Shut up!”

Merlin closed his mouth so quickly and so hard his teeth audibly clicked together.

Running his hand through his hair, Arthur slumped into the nearest seat and there was silence for a few moments until, as if by magic, a mug of tea appeared before him. Even better, although Arthur refused to admit it, was the press of lips to his forehead. As apologies went, Merlin seemed to have a knack. Something Arthur needed to learn, too.

He dredged up a deep sigh and reached out to grip one of Merlin’s hands for a moment, holding on until his touch was reciprocated and Merlin pressed against his fingers for a few moments.

“I’ll tell you about my day, if you tell me about yours?” Merlin offered.

Arthur explained the decisions he'd taken with regard to the sudden Druid invasion and Merlin hummed discontentedly in response.

“Not much else you could do, I suppose,” Merlin said.

“Thank you so much for your support.” Arthur ignored the snort of derision Merlin attempted to drown in his mug. “Was your day any better?”

“It was interesting, I’ll say that. Mordred noted a possible link between the stolen artefacts. Apparently some of the symbols on them are associated with magic.” Merlin laughed aloud when Arthur groaned and repeatedly banged his forehead on the table.

“Stop it – you might hurt your brain. Assuming there’s one in there.”

A finger was all Merlin got for his trouble.

“I know, it’s nuts isn’t it? Anyway, it struck me if somebody was daft enough to believe these objects have some connection to magic or are magical, then they might just be daft enough to try and steal them,” Merlin said.

“They’re succeeding, though, aren’t they? They’re getting past alarm systems, locked cases…”

“Yes, but look at the thefts – they’re mainly from small museums or from unattended archaeological sites. Those museums don’t have anything like the security we have, you know. Yes, they've alarm systems but they’re not sophisticated. And some of the thefts have happened while the museums are open. Lance came to the site this afternoon and we’ve decided to go after the magic aspect.” Merlin rolled his eyes and grimaced as if in actual physical discomfort, in his characteristic reaction to anyone ever using the word magic. “He’s going to look into any related groups and I’m going to research the symbols on the items stolen so far.”

“I think everyone's going mad,” Arthur declared. “If you’re doing that you should also look at the objects found again after being stolen. For whatever reason, they don’t fit the mad view of our magical mystery nuts.”

“Good thinking.”

“Of course. I’m very clever, you know.”

Merlin grinned at him. “And pretty. And so very modest.” He blinked innocently.

Arthur laughed, feeling the irritations of the day slide off him. “I’m not pretty. Girls are pretty. I am devastatingly handsome.”

“Yes, yes you are, at that.” 

Arthur froze as the mood segued abruptly into something considerably more serious. He watched, wary, as Merlin stood and made his way around the table, pulling Arthur up and into his arms. He was quiescent until Merlin tutted in exasperation and pulled at Arthur’s arms until they looped round Merlin’s waist.

Arthur looked into a knowing, surprisingly gentle gaze and said, “Hello.”

“Hello to you, too. Are you going to kiss me?” Merlin whispered.

“Oh, yes, yes I think I am.” And Arthur turned words into deed as he reached forward and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips.

For a long time it remained tender as they learned one another. Their exchange in the doomed flat had been fuelled by alcohol on Arthur’s part and had been a heady enough experience but was not one they'd repeated since, as Merlin had honoured Arthur’s wish to take it slowly. This time, though, was more about finding out what gave pleasure and was based on the friendship that had grown between them over the weeks as well as the initial visceral attraction. It made everything so much better now they knew each other, Arthur thought, as he surrendered himself to Merlin’s increasing pressure and opened his mouth to let Merlin’s tongue gain entry. He moaned and tightened his grip on Merlin, sliding one hand up his back to settle in the dark head of hair and grip tightly.

Merlin’s response was immediate, moaning in turn and pressing hard against him, their bodies growing hot and urgent as one of Merlin’s hands slipped downward to knead at Arthur’s arse. 

Arthur was losing his mind, feeling his desire ratchet upwards and he was about to break away long enough to suggest finding some horizontal surface somewhere – anywhere, the kitchen table would do at a pinch - when they were interrupted by a polite cough.

They sprang apart and gaped at Gaius, who was staring at them with the oddest expression on his face. Arthur couldn’t quite work out if it was horror, amusement, fondness or glee. Perhaps it was all of them.

Whatever it was, he suddenly felt horribly embarrassed. The coldness previous lovers had accused him of was nowhere in sight around Merlin, and the very fact left him confused and uncertain. He hated feeling so unsure and broke away from Merlin’s hold, ignoring the way Merlin flinched.

“Gaius – I …we were –“

“It’s fine, boys, but you might want to take yourselves elsewhere. Alice is popping around to cook tonight.”

There was a pause before Arthur spoke, knowing his face was beet red. “I've some work to finish –“

Merlin grinned. “I’ll come up and help, shall I?”

“No!” There was another silence and it was a moment before Arthur could meet Merlin’s eyes. “I really do need to get some work done. I – I’m sorry…” He couldn’t find the words, and how could he explain when he couldn’t understand himself. Merlin was becoming angry, he could see but there was little Arthur felt he could say with Gaius there, his gaze watchful and concerned. “Look, Merlin –“

Merlin took a decisive step back. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve agreed to meet some of the dig team back at the pub. We’re going to get something to eat there so you don’t have to worry about me. Mordred will be glad to see me anyway.”

“Mordred? I thought you didn’t like him? Or he didn’t like you?” 

Merlin shrugged. “I think he’s growing on me. He’s good company, anyway, and at least he knows what he wants.”

Arthur flushed again, this time with anger at the implied criticism. “Well, if it’s what you want – you’d better get going, hadn’t you? I’m sure they’ll all welcome you with open arms.” He finished the sentence with a sneer and saw Merlin draw in his breath for a response but Gaius spoke before Merlin could.

“Off you go then, young man, and we’ll see you later.”

With one final, mutinous glare at Arthur, Merlin turned on his heel and left. The front door closed with a decisive slam that had Arthur and Gaius both flinching, if for different reasons.

“Original Victorian glass in that door,” Gaius muttered.

Arthur slumped into the seat and buried his head in his hands. This time it wasn't a cup of tea placed in front of him, but a shot of Gaius’ precious single malt. His initial urge was to knock it back in one fiery gulp, but knew how well Gaius would react – not to mention it being a sacrilegious way to treat fine Scotch – so he took a sip instead. Arthur stared down into the glass, swirling the amber liquid and watching as the light caught it and turned the whisky to gold. The colour reminded him fleetingly of something, but the memory skittered away from him and refused to be pinned down.

Eventually, he met Gaius’ calm gaze, smiling rather wryly at the overt sympathy.

“Merlin's a prickly young man, sometimes,” Gaius said.

“And I’m not?” 

Gaius smiled at him. “You’ve had a difficult row to hoe in life, my boy, it is bound to have its effects. If you can talk to anyone about it, Merlin would be a good choice.”

“Why would I burden him with such a sorry tale?”

“If he means as much to you as I think he does – then why wouldn’t you? Besides – if you talk about your father, then it might persuade him to talk about his mother, which is something he hasn't done since she died. Forgive an old man’s bluntness, Arthur, but there's a great deal of grief within you both and if you don’t deal with it, it'll destroy you.”

“You think it hasn’t already?” Arthur hadn’t meant to let the bitter thought escape, as he recalled his failed relationships, the address book with its empty pages because he found it so impossible to maintain even a friendship.

“I think Merlin is the man you need. Just get your head out of your arse.”

“Gaius!”

Gaius laughed. “Have a shower and join Alice and I for dinner. She knew your mother, too, so we can tell you some stories about her, if you'd like to hear them?”

Arthur wondered if this was what it felt like to be a child offered a treat for being good. He managed to find a smile for Gaius. “I'd like to hear about her. Thank you.”

In the end, it turned out to be a better evening than he’d anticipated. Both Gaius and Alice had known Ygraine well and Arthur learned more about his mother in one evening than he ever had in all of his life to date. He listened, wide-eyed and occasionally tearful as they spoke of her beauty, of her ability to charm, of how happy she'd been when she finally fell pregnant with Arthur. Eventually he managed to admit how his father had destroyed every vestige of her and apart from the hazy memory of a three-year old, he'd no idea what she looked like. Alice asked him what he remembered and all he could reply was softness, warmth and scent.

Gaius and Alice looked a little tearful then and Arthur had decided to change the subject before they all ended up blubbing in a heap. He was grateful when they took his cue and spent the rest of the evening trading stories about the museum world and discussing a wide range of topics.

If Merlin had been there it would've been perfect.

**

It was two days before Arthur and Merlin found themselves alone again. Both had been consciously avoiding one another and it was only the fact Arthur believed Merlin had already left that found him entering the kitchen, only to find Merlin seated at the table. Arthur assumed their expressions of shock, dismay and trepidation were uncannily similar.

“Merlin –“ 

“Arthur –“ 

There was a moment where they just stared at one another until Merlin stood up, muttered, “Fuck this,” and launched himself into Arthur’s arms.

Arthur pulled him in as they wrapped their arms around one another and held on tight.

Merlin was muttering against Arthur’s neck, “Sorry, sorry, so stupid, sorry.”

In the end, Arthur did the best thing he could think of to shut Merlin up, by kissing him soundly, swallowing the words of apology and trying to show Merlin as well as he was able, how sorry he was, too.

“That was a really stupid fight,” Merlin said when they had finally untangled themselves and were sitting on opposite sides of the table.

“I know,” Arthur said. “I’m crap at relationships.”

“Me too – it seems. Well, when it matters anyway.”

Arthur sighed. “I really, really am terrible – and I get worse the closer people get to me. I need to talk to you about my father, about why it’s - why I –“

A hand was placed over his. “We’ve both got a lot of talking to do. But Arthur, I need to know.” Merlin stopped and drew his hand back, wringing them and biting at his lower lip before he managed to find the words. “This is serious for me. If you just want a fling, then tell me now.”

“But that’s exactly why I want to go slow, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I want us to last. I want – I just can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he finished in a rush.

Merlin’s grin was blinding. “Okay, then, we’ll go slow. We’ll go at a snail’s pace. And we’ll make out in your flat, because I never want Gaius to walk in on us ever again.”

“God, no – an experience not to be repeated.”

They exchanged a look and both were blushing. Merlin caved first, beginning to giggle. “Your face.”

“My face? You looked like you wanted the floor to swallow you.” Arthur was laughing now, too.

After a few minutes they managed to calm down enough to deal with getting ready for the day ahead. When they parted at the door they kissed gently and Arthur walked all the way to the museum in a daze, still so very conscious of the warmth of Merlin’s hand on his face.

**

Merlin grinned at Mordred as Merlin wandered over to the site of the mosaic, and the young man’s eyes widened slightly. Relations with the M and Ms had improved, but had only moved from icy to cordial and hadn't quite reached the stage where grins were exchanged. Merlin was still revelling in the bliss of making up with Arthur, and if this was how it felt without sex being involved, he was perversely looking forward to making up following the first fight after they began sleeping together. They were bound to fight, he realised, and where such knowledge would have concerned him and eaten at him in previous relationships, with Arthur it just seemed like a necessary part of the whole. 

“How's it going?” he asked, and turned to bestow the same grin on Morgause.

She raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at him, but even that couldn't shift his good mood. Morgause responded with an exasperated sigh and motioned him across to the edge of the trench.

The earth was gradually giving up her secrets. The painstaking work over the past couple of weeks was bearing fruit as tiny tile after tiny tile was revealed. They kept waiting for the moment when they'd come across an area of damage, or where the mosaic had been lost altogether, but so far it was complete and looked almost as if it had been laid yesterday. If they didn’t have the dating evidence from the layers above, Merlin wasn’t sure he would have believed it was a Roman period mosaic.

The sinuous outlines were picked out in darker brown, with more brown tiles of varying shades providing the bulk of the colour within. Already he could see it wasn’t a sea serpent as he'd originally postulated, but it wasn’t yet clear what type of creature it was. The composition was strange, too and he joined the others as they stared down at it.

The mosaic was round and set within a square that made up the floor of the room. Merlin frowned.

“It’s not right, is it?” Merlin said.

Morgause looked at him as If he was an idiot. “It seems to be asymmetrical.” 

“It’s beautiful, though.”

She smiled for the first time since he had known her. “It most certainly is.” She moved carefully onto the dig, avoiding the area already uncovered. She leaned down and placed her hand on the surface, sweeping it along the brown curve. Her dark eyes widened and for a brief moment Merlin thought they were gold, startled when she shot backwards and stood.

“Everything okay?”

She spared him a brief glance. “Of course. We should get back to work if you don’t mind.”

And that’s me politely told to bugger off, he thought, grinning to himself as he took another walk round the site. Most of the work was clearing up and backfilling for the moment. No final decision had been made about the mosaic itself at present, but Merlin couldn’t see how they could leave it. There had already been enough talk that a number of journalists had turned up. Leaving it in the ground would be tantamount to neglect in Merlin’s eyes. He only hoped Arthur would agree – along with the ancient monuments inspector.

He walked back towards the site hut, his mind already considering ways and means of lifting the mosaic.

_Merlin…_

The voice was deep and resonant, seeming to travel through Merlin from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He spun around to face the site but nobody was even looking in his direction. He scrubbed his hands through his hair.

“I really need to get laid,” Merlin muttered, and turned his attention back to his database of thefts.

**

Arthur was deep in his Art Keeper’s report on possible losses and had already noted the comment about the recovered watercolour Arthur had found hidden behind a false panel in his desk. At least its discovery had removed all doubt in Arthur’s mind about Kanen’s activities but it wasn't actual proof and he wished he'd been just a little later that day and had caught Kanen in the act of removing the watercolour from the museum. His already wandering attention was completely destroyed when he became aware of a certain hubbub outside his door. Frowning, he gave up on trying to work out what else Kanen might or might not be responsible for in favour of infinitely more exciting possibilities.

Arthur opened the door to discover Gauis and his Head of Geology, Huw Jones in an animated discussion with his personal assistant.

“Really,” the poor woman was saying. “The Director asked not to be disturbed.”

“It’s all right, Heledd,” he said. “Gentlemen, if you'd like to come in.” Arthur grinned at her exaggerated eye roll and followed them into his office. Both men were generally phlegmatic in the extreme so this level of excitement was unusual.

“What’s going on?” Arthur asked.

“We’ve found it.”

“It’s fantastic.”

Both men began speaking at once and Arthur held his hands up. It was Huw who, spoke.

“We’ve found the actual quarry site for the Stonehenge bluestones.”

Arthur sat down rather suddenly. This was huge.

“The petrological analysis has narrowed it down and over the past couple of years we’ve been examining specific sites. We were pretty sure we were close.” Huw grinned at Gaius, who took up the tale.

“I took some of the team up and did a couple of trial trenches. We’ve discovered two cut stones – exactly the same size and shape of the Stonehenge bluestones.”

“It’s something of a bumper year for archaeology, isn’t it?” Arthur said, and sat silently for a few moments while his mind worked through some of the ramifications. 

Chief amongst his concerns was the continuing spate of thefts happening across the country. Stonehenge itself had so much myth and legend surrounding it that it seemed impossible an unprotected site in the middle of Wales was likely to escape an attempt at theft, although moving those stones would be no small feat. The urge to tell the world was overwhelming, but good sense was going to have to prevail.

“We need to keep this quiet for the moment,” Arthur told them and was encouraged by their frantic nodding in agreement. “I’d like to get the site properly recorded and the cut stones moved somewhere more secure as soon as we can. Gaius, can you manage with both the bluestone and the Caerleon sites on the go?” Arthur’s heart quailed at the thought he might have to tell Merlin he was pulling the funding on his dig.

Gaius smiled at him. “Merlin's managing the Caerleon site and has more or less closed it up apart from the mosaic, so I can concentrate on the bluestones with Huw’s help. The most difficult and expensive part will be moving the stones. I’ll work on some projections for time and cost.”

“Thank you. I’ll need information so we can brief the Comms team in case anything gets out. I assume the university team know to keep it quiet, too?” He relaxed at Gaius’ nod although he was aware the number of people who already knew about it meant a leak was almost inevitable if it hadn't already occurred. As long as it gave them enough time to move the stones somewhere considerably more secure than a disused quarry site in the middle of west Wales.

Arthur sent the excited men off still chattering like ten year old boys and sighed. So much for an early finish. He looked up and smiled at Heledd as she entered bearing a tray with a coffee pot and all the necessary accoutrements. His smile widened to a grin as he spied a sizeable piece of her famous lemon drizzle cake.

“What would I do without you?” he asked, and was pleased to hear her delighted chuckle. His slow campaign to win trust and encourage openness was gradually beginning to bear fruit. Or in this case, he grinned to himself, cake.

**

They stood around the uncovered mosaic, everyone completely silent as they stared down at it. It was the oddest thing Merlin had ever seen in a Roman context. Because it didn’t look in the least bit Roman. For a start, only half the mosaic included a pattern set within a deep blue semi-circle, with the other half completely filled in with lighter blue tiles, so it didn’t exactly look unfinished, just badly planned.

The half that was filled was breath-taking and now it was completely cleared of the covering earth it was obvious the beast was a great dragon. Iridescent shades of brown tiles made up the pattern and there was so much life and character in the two-dimensional picture Merlin half-expected it to start moving.

The mosaic both attracted and repulsed him, mainly because it was a representation of something he'd always refused to acknowledge existed, something he mocked others for when they expressed any real interest in magic or the occult. This to him was another expression of the naivety of people. And yet every time he looked at it something he couldn't begin to understand spun and coiled in his gut, teasing him and tempting him to step down and touch.

He moved back from the edge and glanced round at the others. The M and Ms were all staring down at it with matching expressions of consternation and concern.

“It’s a dragon,” Merlin said, stating what was now completely obvious “I’ve never seen anything like it in a mosaic. It looks as if it should come from a completely different period.”

 

 

Morgana was pale and was biting her lip as if in distress. “Why is it half-empty? What should be in the other side?”

Morgause moved closer to her and slipped an arm around her waist in a gesture of comfort that almost made Merlin like her, even if he couldn't fathom why Morgana would be upset.

“I don’t expect we’ll ever know,” he said. Merlin kept his tone as practical as possible, still slightly unnerved by his own reaction to the mosaic. “I’ll put a call in to get the conservators up to have a look. We need to work out how we’re going to lift this.” He pretended not to notice the glances the M and Ms exchanged, but made a note to ask Lance to check them out again. For some reason he was sure they knew a great deal more than they were saying. At the moment, though, all he could cope with were the practicalities involved in the security and care of the mosaic. 

Merlin looked down at it again, avoiding the eye.

 

**

Merlin closed the dig down earlier than usual, and was grateful to make it back to Cardiff before the evening rush really got started. He abandoned his boots and backpack in the laundry room and wandered into the lounge, finding Gaius behind the desk placed at one end of the comfortable, cluttered room.

Gaius smiled at him as he entered. “How are you, my boy?”

“Knackered,” Merlin answered. He was still unsettled by the sight of the uncovered mosaic and wanted nothing more but to bury himself in some obscure archaeological text with nothing to do with Romans. He slumped onto the sofa and looked with interest at the ancient tome on Gaius’ desk, hoping it would provide the distraction he was after. “What've you got there?”

“The Annals of Geoffrey of Monmouth. It’s the story of a little-known legend – the Legend of the Once and Future King.”

“I haven’t heard of it,” Merlin said.

“It’s an interesting tale – full of magic and dragons, so you wouldn’t have been interested in it. I thought it might have some relevance to your research on the thefts. I remembered finding the book in an antiquarian bookshop many years ago. I haven’t seen anything else about the legend in all my years of study. I’ve transcribed an amount of it over the years. I was just finishing it off for you. Save you having to practice that rusty Old English of yours.”

Merlin scrubbed his hands through his hair and ignored Gaius’ teasing because both of them knew Merlin’s Old English was excellent and this was more to do with Gaius practising his own skills. Magic and dragons. Again. “My life gets more bizarre by the day. Is Arthur back?” He knew Gaius would be intrigued when Merlin finally told him about the picture on the mosaic, but for the moment he really didn’t want to raise the subject at all. Might as well wait and tell him and Arthur together anyway.

The grin Gaius sent in his direction had colour sweeping across Merlin’s cheeks. “He muttered about completing a report for the Board. Why don’t you take a drink up for him? Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”

“You really don’t have to cook for us all the time, Gaius. You’ve been working all day, too.”

“Nonsense, I love having you both to look after. And Alice has finally released her lasagne recipe into the wild.”

“Well, okay as long as you don’t mind. I’ll…um…” Merlin knew he was looking sheepish as he saw Gaius hiding another grin and in the end Merlin simply shook his head and headed to the small side table with its decanter of whisky and heavy, cut crystal glasses. There were some traditions, Merlin thought, well worth keeping.

He mounted the stairs up to the top floor carefully. Despite it being a separate flat, Arthur tended to leave the door slightly ajar and Merlin called out as he entered. Arthur was nowhere to be seen so Merlin ambled across the room, meaning to see if he was sitting on the terrace. A noise behind Merlin had him turning and he nearly dropped the glasses. 

Arthur had clearly been in the shower. Merlin didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to work that one out as currently Arthur was exiting the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel round his waist and scrubbing his hair with another. Droplets of water shimmered silver on golden skin, catching the light from the sun as it dipped towards the horizon and for a moment, all Merlin could do was stare at such a cornucopia of riches. He knew Arthur was good looking – who could miss it – but this was like looking at everything he'd ever dreamed about: wide shoulders and a light scattering of hair down the chest leading to a flat stomach and on. 

Merlin gulped.

The slight noise was enough to alert Arthur he wasn't alone and he pulled the towel from his head to peer at Merlin. 

There was a long silence as they regarded one another and Merlin raised the glasses he held as an explanation of his presence before he placed them on the table. For some reason he couldn’t think of a thing to say, overwhelmed by a range of emotions he couldn’t begin to fully understand. The lust, he recognised, and the growing fondness that was colouring every thought and interaction with Arthur. But the grief, so profound and dark, hit Merlin like a punch to the gut and robbed him of speech and air. He could hear his own breathing, hear the panic and knew he was close to losing control.

“Merlin?”

Arthur’s cautious enquiry unglued his feet and he was across the room with his face pressed against Arthur’s neck before he'd even considered his actions. Merlin wrapped his arms around the warm living… _living_ … flesh, closed his eyes and tried desperately to stop shaking.

“What…?”

Thankfully, Arthur gave up on speech and instead brought his own arms around Merlin. The touch of Arthur’s hand cupping the nape of his neck had Merlin choking out a sudden sob.

“Sorry, so sorry.” What the hell was wrong with him?

Arthur hushed him, tightening his hold and pressing Merlin close, turning his head to press a kiss to Merlin’s temple. Merlin knew Arthur probably thought this was something to do with Hunith’s death but while the loss of his mother was still raw, it was nothing to the grief overwhelming him now – and he'd no idea where it came from or what it meant. 

Pulling in a deep breath, Merlin drew in Arthur’s clean scent and it helped to ground him, letting him calm down. He pressed his lips to the point where Arthur’s neck joined his shoulder and found it in himself to smile as a tremor passed through Arthur’s frame in response.

It was with a certain amount of regret that Merlin pulled back, meeting Arthur’s worried gaze, and so very conscious of the way Arthur’s hand was still curved comfortably around his neck.

“I’m all right – really,” he said at Arthur’s patently disbelieving expression. He cleared his throat. “Gaius said dinner would be in half an hour or so.” Please let it go, he thought desperately. Please don’t ask me because I have no answers.

A blue gaze speared him, measured, assessed, contemplated.

“Take the drinks onto the terrace. I’ll get dressed.”

“Don’t go to any trouble on my account.” Merlin wasn’t entirely sure he was joking but he was glad enough when Arthur laughed and released his hold long enough to playfully cuff him around the head and then push Merlin away in the direction of the terrace.

Merlin was shaken by the whole encounter and knew Arthur was, too, but for the moment all Merlin wanted to do was to forget it. He drew in another deep breath and ambled out onto the terrace to enjoy the evening light. A sip of whisky and a moment or two thinking about the dig and the effects of the emotion were already slipping away from him.

By the time Arthur joined him on the terrace and they’d chatted about the day over their drinks, both men hadn't exactly forgotten what had happened, but were less concerned than they might have been.

And if Merlin had still been thinking about it, he might have decided that was rather strange.

**

“Tell us about the legend of the Once and Future King, then,” Merlin said as they congregated around the scrubbed wooden kitchen table. 

Arthur had yet to have a meal in the formal dining room of the house and Merlin had remarked how it tended to be used only for Christmas or the occasional dinner party. Most of the time the kitchen table was used, which seemed fitting as the kitchen was the hub of the house and where they all tended to meet. Dinner quite often segued into an evening of conversation with Merlin and Gaius and whoever else happened to arrive. Arthur had discovered both were gregarious and had an uncanny ability not just to make friends but to keep them and there tended to be a parade of people either dropping in for food or staying overnight. Gaius was always a generous host and though Arthur had tried on several occasions to discuss either rent or contributing to the household expenses, Gaius always refused. Eventually, Arthur insisted he would take over purchasing alcohol for the house although truth be told he’d flinched when he’d witnessed the happy glint that appeared in Gaius’ eyes at Arthur’s assertion, along with the snort of laughter from Merlin. It turned out Gaius was something of a connoisseur when it came to whisky, wine and champagne. Well, all forms of alcohol really, as Arthur had discovered when Gaius spent one Friday evening testing out his cocktail-making skills on a group of friends. Arthur still couldn’t remember much of the Saturday following.

He pulled his mind back to Merlin’s words. “What legend's this?” 

Gaius topped up the whisky glasses and settled back. Arthur made himself comfortable, slipping off his shoes and bringing his legs up so he could rest his feet on Merlin’s lap. Merlin look outraged for a split second and then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he grinned. Arthur watched, his eyes half-lidded, as one of Merlin’s beautiful hands curled around one ankle and squeezed gently. When Arthur looked up, Gaius was smiling at them both.

When Gaius was sure he had their attention, he took up the tale.

“It was a time of myth and magic, a time where there were still dragons in the skies and unicorns in the woods, when there were witches and warlocks, good and bad.”

“There’s never been any such thing as magic,” Arthur said.

Gaius raised his eyebrows in his especially terrifying way and Arthur subsided as if he was a child. He scowled a little at Merlin’s poorly suppressed snigger, but let it go and instead gestured grandly at Gaius to continue.

“Well, as I was saying,” he mock-scowled at both of them but Arthur saw his mouth twitch as they grinned at his reaction. “Like anything, magic could be used for good or evil. It could be used with good intent but have unforeseen and terrible consequences. The king of this legend was born of magic, but magic had killed his mother at the moment of his birth. His father, mad with grief, sought to expunge all trace of magic from his kingdom and he slaughtered all who used it or showed any sign of sympathy.

“The young prince, therefore, was brought up to hate and fear magic. 

“But according to the annals, everything changed when a young warlock came to the city, and although he hid what he was, almost the first thing he did was save the prince’s life, whereupon he was made his manservant. He continued to save the prince and they became friends. The young warlock had discovered a dragon chained under the castle, who told him that warlock and prince were fated to achieve a great destiny, a golden age of peace. But the dragon, for all the best reasons, meddled too much, and the warlock’s soft heart meant he couldn't make some of the harsh choices he needed to. In the end, the prince became a King beloved of his people, but ruled for only three years before he died in battle.”

“So they failed?” Arthur asked.

“Well, that’s a crap story,” Merlin said. He sounded dismayed.

“It’s not the end, though.” Gaius smiled then although Arthur wondered what there was in such a tale of defeat to smile at. “He was still the Once and Future King. The prophecy is that in Albion’s time of greatest need, he'll return to us and lead us once more.”

Arthur could hear Merlin swallow.

“What happened to the warlock?” Merlin asked, and Arthur heard a distinct wobble in his voice. 

“He was with his king when he died, but nothing more is said of him. Those are just the bare bones of it, you should read the transcript – it’s quite a tale.” Gaius offered the whisky bottle again and smiled at them.

“I’m surprised it’s not better known,” Arthur said.

“Something for your retirement, Gaius – if you ever retire. You could turn it into a novel.” Merlin seemed to have shaken off whatever had been concerning him about the tale.

“I might, at that.”

Arthur noticed the sharp glance Gaius threw at Merlin then, and Arthur moved the conversation onto different matters, gently teasing them both about the current state of Welsh rugby. Gaius eventually left them to it, pleading old age and a need for sleep, though Arthur knew well enough the man was a night owl. It left him and Merlin, suddenly silent and shy in one another’s company in a way they'd never known. 

All Arthur could think about was the way the long length of Merlin’s body had felt against him earlier in the evening and the rush of sheer want was busy getting the better of all the common sense arguments he'd been marshalling up until now. 

With a sigh that might almost have expressed his defeat, he reached across and stilled the nervous movement of Merlin’s hands. He squeezed them gently and then brought them to his mouth, kissing each knuckle, then placing their joined hands on the table top.

“I love you.”

The words popped out of his mouth before he'd even begun to decide what he should say, but he couldn’t be sorry at the way the truth spilled from him. He smiled at the wide, startled gaze Merlin turned on him.

“I love you.” Arthur repeated. “But you know that. Just as I know you love me.”

Merlin swallowed hard and looked as if perhaps he was searching for a witty come back. It was surprising, Arthur thought, how it was Merlin, with all his emotional openness and honesty, who seemed to be struggling in the face of Arthur’s certainty now.

Smiling, Arthur squeezed the hands he held again and asked. “Will you come to bed with me?”

There was a gasp and then Merlin was grinning at him, his expression full of a fierce joy and love, but his voice was calm as he said, “Yes.”

**

Gaius heard the two sets of footsteps heading up towards the attic flat and he smiled. He picked up a photograph from the dresser – a picture of a young woman with a toddler in her arms, both of them dark-haired and laughing.

“I wish you could have met him, my dear. You would have loved Arthur and he'll make Merlin happy. Arthur would have loved you, too. He would finally have had a mother.” He shook his head, dispelling his own melancholy as the loss of someone he'd considered a sister washed over him, just as strongly and painfully as the moment she'd left them, and he found it in him to smile. “But the fights are going to be quite tempestuous. They’re both strong men – but then, Merlin would never be happy with anything else.”

**

Merlin opened his eyes slowly, wondering at the strangeness of his surroundings for a moment, before being distracted by the realisation he wasn't alone in the bed. His memory returned as he woke and he smiled with sleepy satisfaction at the warmth radiating from Arthur’s body, sliding closer and pressing his lips to the back of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur stirred and turned to face him, blinking owlishly at him before his mouth widened into a fond smile. Merlin levered himself onto one elbow and stared down at his new lover.

“Hi,” he said.

“Good morning,” Arthur replied, still grinning at him, silly and open and looking good enough to eat – again.

Merlin leaned down just as Arthur caught sight of the clock on the bedside table.

“Buggering fuck – I’m going to be late!” And he slid out of the bed, leaving Merlin to land face down in the pillows. 

“You didn’t set the alarm,” Merlin said as he rolled over onto his back. He was a little stung that his hopes for a repeat of the previous night were being so summarily dashed. And he spared a moment to wonder when Arthur had started using one of Merlin’s own favourite curses.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Arthur snapped.

Merlin frowned. “Well, it’s hardly my fault.”

He wasn’t sure just exactly what he sounded like, but Arthur stilled. He was turned away from Merlin, hunting through the drawers for clothes, but for a moment he was absolutely motionless. Then he turned and was leaning down, cupping Merlin’s face and pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Sorry, but I’m scheduled to do an early interview. When will you get home today?”

Merlin could do nothing else but forgive him. “I’ll be on public transport unless I can get a lift, so probably around 7pm.”

“Take my car, for heaven’s sake. It’s only sitting on the drive doing nothing.”

“I’m not insured to drive it.”

“You are.”

“What?”

“I put both you and Gaius on the insurance as named drivers when I moved in.”

“And you waited three months to tell me?” Merlin didn’t know whether to be appalled or amused or just pleased Arthur had done it at all.

Arthur shrugged. “Sorry, thought I had.” He leaned down for a longer kiss. “Get home as early as you can, hmm. Gaius said he was off to Alice’s tonight for the weekend.”

Merlin grinned into the kiss, reaching up in the hope he could coax Arthur back into the bed. Now he could drive to the dig site, there was a bit more time.

He was gently repulsed. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Arthur murmured.

A shiver travelled the length of Merlin’s spine. “Don’t say that. Please, Arthur, don’t ever say that.”

Arthur stared down at him for a moment, looking concerned at the desperate tone in Merlin’s voice, but he didn't comment, and instead smiled and offered, “Okay. How about I can see from now on in I'm going to be living in a sex stupor and it'll be all your doing.”

Merlin felt the grin spread across his features. “Now that, I like the sound of!” And as a thank you, he had a slice of toast and a travelling mug full of coffee ready when Arthur left the shower, still grinning when Arthur kissed him on the way out of the door and tossed a quick, “Love you” as he clattered down the stairs and into the waiting taxi.

It was so damned domestic and every day and Merlin decided it was just perfect.

**

 

Merlin locked up the site hut and nodded at the security guard who'd just arrived on the site, already looking bored out of his wits and immediately disappearing into the small hut where the stove and kettle resided. Merlin grinned as he glanced around and noticed the only people still there were the M and Ms, standing at the boot of their fancy car and deep in conversation, and just beyond them a lone tourist who looked as if he was heading towards the exit for the pub. Merlin sighed and swung his bag onto his back, trudging wearily towards them and the only other car in the car park – which happened to be Arthur’s BMW. 

He grinned as the memories of the previous night resurfaced. Merlin had been grinning for most of the day, to the confusion of all. He was generally a fairly cheerful and upbeat individual, but he'd the feeling he'd rather unnerved the team today. Morgana had taken one look at him and raised an eyebrow that seemed to indicate she knew exactly what had put the cheesy grin on his face. When he'd flushed, rosy-cheeked and suddenly stuttering, she'd snorted and laughed out loud. There was a moment following when they'd stared at one another, both startled by the camaraderie, before she'd shaken her head and walked away. But she'd still been smiling.

He loitered long enough to ensure the others were in their car and pulling away before he reached the car park, which suited him just fine. He pressed the electronic lock on the key and headed towards the boot to stow his backpack with its precious laptop.

As he did so, the tourist approached him.

“Excuse me?”

Merlin turned, but his genial smile quickly faded. 

The blade in the man’s hand caught the evening light. 

Merlin glanced wildly around but the only sign of life was the M and Ms’ car as it moved slowly along the dusty track towards the main road. There was no sign at all of the security guard, and he'd be far too far away to be of much help.

Fuck, he was going to get mugged and lose Arthur’s car.

“Give me the backpack.”

“What?” His laptop. Merlin didn’t quite know what possessed him, but he dived for the car door and managed to get his hand to the horn for a few seconds before he was yanked away.

“Stupid bastard. Give me the bag or I’ll gut you and leave you in the dirt to bleed out, you little prick.”

For one hysterical moment Merlin wanted to ask him if he kissed his mother with that mouth, but self-preservation kicked in and he took the opportunity to swing his bag at the man. His laptop was old, clunky and much-beloved, but closely resembled a brick and it caught his assailant a hefty blow. Merlin scrambled back towards the car only to realise in horror that he'd dropped the key in the struggle. Still hanging on grimly to the backpack, Merlin promptly took off in the direction of the main road as if all the hounds of hell were after him. He'd never been particularly athletic but he had long legs and a healthy desire to live, which leant him more speed.

It wasn’t going to be enough. Merlin could hear sounds of pursuit behind him and knew he'd never make it to the road, even if a car happened along the quiet lane and could help him. As his breath shortened, Merlin wondered if he should try and make it to the security guard’s hut, but a quick glance at the distance dissuaded him. The man following him was tall and broad, dark razor-cut hair suggesting a previous incarnation as a soldier and Merlin could hear the regularity and purpose in the footfalls behind him as they grew ever closer.

Arthur, oh God, Arthur, I’m so sorry. 

There was movement in the scrub and bushes lining the lane and then Mordred stepped out into the middle of the track. Merlin staggered to a halt and gaped at him. 

It wasn’t so much the fact he was there that spooked Merlin, or how he'd moved so silently, so deliberately into the space between Merlin and his attacker, it was more the wicked blade held so competently in his hand. Stance loose and ready, Mordred looked like a fighter and the way the other man halted and assessed him made it clear he understood that, too.

“Mordred, what're you doing?” Merlin whispered.

Mordred didn't take his eyes off the attacker. “I'm protecting you in the name of my King. I failed him once. I will not do so again.”

Merlin gaped at Mordred, having no idea what he was on about, but he couldn’t argue with the intent in Mordred’s eyes, or his obvious familiarity with the sword he held. In the midst of Merlin’s fear and panic, his archaeologist’s brain still managed to catalogue the style of the blade as 5th century AD, but it was nothing like the dull, lifeless swords he'd seen during his studies. This looked as if it had been well-loved and painstakingly cared for. It gleamed with intent and a strange fire.

Mordred raised the blade and stepped past Merlin, his step sure and measured.

The attacker took one look at Mordred’s confident stance, cold, expressionless eyes and turned on his tail and ran, not in any particular panic, it seemed to Merlin, but in an orderly retreat. The realisation provided little comfort.

Suddenly, the fright and shock slammed home and Merlin dropped to his knees, shaking and wanting nothing more than to double over and lose the contents of his stomach. 

Mordred moved to his side. “Morgana and Morgause went to the end of the road. The mobile signal is better there. They'll call the police and the K – Arthur.”

Merlin could only nod in acknowledgement, trying vainly to subdue the trembling in his limbs. He was surprised when Mordred’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, pressing down in rough comfort.

“You're safe, Merlin. We will allow no harm to come to either of you.”

It was another puzzling fact about the M and Ms to add to the rapidly growing list Merlin had been making. He nodded again but wasn't entirely sure he believed that they meant him and Arthur no harm. Merlin shifted, just until he could free himself of Mordred’s grip and managed to get to his feet without having to take the outstretched hand offered to him. He pretended not to hear Mordred’s quiet, disappointed sigh.

 

**

By the time Arthur had received the call from Morgana and rounded up Leon to take him out to the dig site, the police had already been there for some time and were swarming around the area. His heart in his mouth, Arthur headed straight to the ambulance he could see at the edge of the field and to the figure sitting hunched on the back, a red blanket draped around him. As he got closer he could see Merlin was sipping at a cup of steaming liquid – the ubiquitous British custom of offering a cup of tea in times of trouble. Lance was standing close by and was talking, but Merlin appeared to be paying little attention, and paid even less as he caught sight of Arthur.

The red blanket slipped from Merlin as he stood, and he pushed the cup at Lance before closing the distance between them. Arthur caught Merlin in his arms and pulled him in until their bodies were flush against one another. Merlin’s breath was shaky against his neck, but he was warm and familiar and all in one piece. Arthur tightened his grip.

When they finally loosened their hold on one another, Arthur became aware of both Leon and Lance standing close by and watching with similar looks of realisation and understanding. Mordred, Morgana and Morgause were also close by, and while Arthur couldn't decipher what they necessarily thought, they didn't seem concerned. Not that he really cared, he acknowledged, although it seemed he had them to thank for Merlin’s safety. A flash of memory returned to him from the night of the fire and his eyes settled on Morgause’s bright blonde hair for a moment before he was distracted as Merlin inclined his head and kissed him as if he couldn’t help himself. 

Arthur could do nothing other than return the salute before they parted and he cleared his throat, though he didn't let Merlin go. His thoughts from his early days in Wales about maintaining distance and barriers had been shot to hell by the very thought his lover could have been harmed. He just didn’t care. As long as they were together and well, nothing else mattered.

Merlin was looking at him, an abashed pride and great fondness – love – painting his features, and it seemed to Arthur as if Merlin truly understood this was the first time in Arthur’s life he'd felt free to love and be loved equally and without limits. It was a strange place and time to have such an epiphany and Arthur took a deep breath, smiling down at Merlin and kissing him again gently before he turned to the task of finding out exactly what had happened, listening silently but with growing unease as Merlin told his story.

Lance was serious in his appraisal. Where this might usually have been logged as an attempted mugging, the earlier attack on the flat suggested an entirely more sinister reason. He suggested that Merlin stay away from the dig site for the time being, and only worked on the thefts when he was somewhere secure. Merlin’s expression was mutinous but one look at Arthur seemed to gain his reluctant agreement, and Arthur wondered what his face had given away. Although it was almost like a physical pain to let Merlin go, Arthur left him talking to Lance for a moment and walked across to where the M and Ms were still waiting.

“I wanted to thank you all,” he said. “For keeping Merlin safe.”

Arthur had never heard Mordred speak, but it was him who responded.

“We’re just glad we were there and could help,” Mordred said.

There was a short, uncomfortable silence before Arthur could find anything else to say and he resorted to practicalities.

“Merlin won’t be out at the site for a while. Morgause, you’ve been supervising since the start. Could you make sure everything stays on track. You can always ring Merlin if anything crops up you’re not sure about, or Gaius could come out. Merlin speaks very highly of you and I know he'd be comfortable with you taking charge.”

Morgause raised her eyebrows as if surprised by Arthur’s words or perhaps by Merlin’s good opinion.

“Perhaps if Gaius could come out to the site tomorrow to take a look at where we are?” she suggested. 

“Good idea – I’ll ask him to do that. And thank you again,” Arthur said, before he headed back to Merlin, filled with an urgent need to take him home and reassure himself Merlin was indeed unharmed.

Arthur was aware they were being watched as they headed towards his car, accepting the key the helpful policeman standing by it had managed to find. Merlin was already moaning about being banned from visiting the site and Arthur was already snapping at him. As Arthur opened the car and ushered an indignant Merlin into the passenger seat he glanced up. Leon and Lance were deep in conversation, half-turned towards the car. Morgana and Morgause turned away before he could make eye contact but Morded – well, Mordred bowed to him. Arthur blinked in surprise and inclined his head in the only acknowledgement he could manage, even more confused when Mordred smiled widely before he joined his friends.

A shiver ran the full length of Arthur’s spine, but Merlin’s continued grumbling caught his attention once more and all thoughts of Mordred’s strange actions drifted away, lost to memory.

 

**

It took a grand total of three days after the aborted attack for Merlin to finally lose his patience. Lance had been over earlier in the day but only to admit they'd nothing to go on and no ideas on either Merlin’s assailant or whether he was likely to try again. Arthur had arrived home to find him seething and working hard not to take it out on either Arthur or Gaius. 

It should've been just another evening at home, something Arthur was beginning to delight in. They shared their meal with Gaius and when he headed off to see Alice, they repaired to Arthur’s rooms, where he’d been hoping for a spot of old-fashioned canoodling on the sofa watching trashy television before heading off to the delights of their bed.

Instead, Merlin started pacing around the room, stopping every so often to pick up an item, stare at it and then put it down approximately where he’d got it from. Arthur twitched, and resisted the temptation to wander along behind Merlin straightening everything up.

“Something wrong?” He asked instead.

Merlin looked at him as if he'd forgotten Arthur was there, and the frustration, which had been simmering under the surface all evening suddenly seemed to boil over. “I’ve been stuck in this damn house for three days, Arthur! I’m going out of my mind. I don’t know if anything’s wrong or if I’m just bored to death.” He paused in his pacing, staring out of the open terrace doors to the lowering sun beyond. “Something just feels… It’s as if I’ve forgotten something.” He wandered three times in a loop from around the coffee table, to the doors to the terrace, into the kitchen and back. Arthur watched, mystified. “I want to go to the dig.”

“Now?” 

Merlin nodded at him, his brow furrowed and he was biting his lip.

“Why?”

“I've no idea.”

“Merlin, we don’t know if it’s safe.”

“For God’s sake, Arthur. Nobody knows I’ll be there.”

What if you’re being watched, Arthur wanted to ask. What if the site is being watched? Merlin had begun pacing again and Arthur bit his lip, considering. 

“I’ll drive you.” 

Merlin looked surprised and pleased. “You don’t need to. I know I’m being stupid – I’ll probably get there and just turn around again. Probably won’t even get out of the car.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go alone after what happened. That’s the offer.” Arthur was blunt, not sure if Merlin had really understood how terrified Arthur had been when he thought Merlin might've been injured or even killed.

“The night watchman will be there – I’ll be fine and I’ll only feel guilty dragging you out as well.” 

Merlin was pushing just a little, but Arthur could see the hesitation, recognising Merlin was not as sanguine as he like to pretend either about what might have happened or the current risk.

“I’ll drive you,” Arthur repeated.

They stared at one another for a few moments until Merlin sighed and nodded.

By the time they arrived the sun was low in the sky, casting a soft orange glow across the site. The first thing Arthur noticed, to his chagrin, was the complete absence of the security guard the museum was paying good money for. Swearing beneath his breath, he followed Merlin across to the mosaic. He hadn’t seen it since the very early days of its discovery and now as he stared down on it, it simply took his breath away.

It was set in a circle and, unusually, the design occupied only half of the space, as if the floor was unfinished, even though the other side was a mass of small light-blue tiles. The dying evening light brought out the browns of the different earth-tones in a burnished brightness.

“It’s not very Roman-looking,” Arthur said, because he couldn't quite think what else to say, how else to respond to such a beautiful, terrible image.

Merlin stood at his side. “If we didn’t have conclusive dating evidence from the layers above, and no indication the ground has been disturbed, I’d be saying the same thing. It’s … odd all around.”

“We’ll have to lift it, Merlin, there’s no way we can leave it here, not with this spate of thefts.”

“I’m not even sure they would steal this,” Merlin dropped gently onto the floor, stepping carefully onto the tiles. “I think if they couldn’t move it, they might destroy it.” Merlin crouched down and for some reason a frisson of fear travelled up Arthur’s spine, leaving him uneasy. 

“How long will it take to move it?”

“God, weeks, Arthur.”

“Weeks? Can’t you just – “ Arthur began to think through just how one might lift something so ancient and fragile. 

“It’s not like I can say Oh, Dragon awake, and ask it to fly into a convenient museum store, can I?” Merlin blinked up at him from where he was crouched down by the mosaic, leaning one hand against its breast. Arthur was distracted by the deep tone and odd cadence in Merlin’s voice.

“Say that again,” he demanded, ignoring the rolled eyes. “Go on – tell the dragon to wake up.”

A golden eye blinked slowly. Arthur held his breath. Mad. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, going stark raving bonkers.

Merlin looked as if he was agreeing about the madness but he chuckled and stood, before with a great flourish, his hand outstretched and fingers spread, he intoned.

“Dragon! Heed my command! Awake! Awake! Awa – bloody hell!”

A confused interlude of scrambling and swearing followed as Merlin leapt out of the dig, destroying part of the section. That really didn’t matter, considering the damage currently being done to the mosaic itself as the ground appeared to heave and surge as if it was water rather than earth. 

Something pulled free of the soil, stretching out.

A wing.

A taloned foreleg.

A head.

Arthur grabbed Merlin and pulled him back… and back… and back.

It towered over them.

“It’s a dragon!” 

“Really, Merlin. Your powers of deduction are truly stunning.” Arthur was amazed he'd managed to string together a coherent sentence as he stared at the great beast and wondered how far they could run, and if by any chance he could distract it enough to give Merlin a head start. He caught Merlin’s considering glance and it didn’t take the brain power of Einstein to realise Merlin was thinking along exactly the same lines and was wondering how to sacrifice himself to let Arthur live.

Suddenly, Arthur was furious at Merlin, without having any real reason why. And why were they not running? 

The great beast stretched its wings before it reared up, raising its snout to the sky and expelled a huge gout of flame.

“Fuck,” Merlin breathed, and clutched hard at Arthur’s arm. 

Arthur shook him off and scowled at him, unreasonably angry at the awe and total lack of fear in Merlin’s features.

The dragon’s attention finally turned to them, the head lowering until Arthur could see the swirling tones making up those great gold eyes. There was something so ancient in its gaze that it, more than any paralyzing terror he felt, kept Arthur standing still and staring. Merlin reached out to him and this time he accepted the hand slipping into his and gripping hard, needing the reassurance that there was another human being witnessing this.

“My kin. It is good to see you again, young warlock. I was sure when we last met that my time was over.” The voice was old and deep and rusty.

The creature was talking to Merlin as if it knew him. 

Merlin started back at the sound of its voice, but then he moved forward as if he could not stop himself, as if he was being drawn forward and he reached out his free hand to touch the scales on one of the forelegs. Arthur inhaled deeply, desperate to pull him away but instead he stayed quiet, some taint of sadness and grief managing to still his fears, even if it couldn't quite suppress his unreasoning anger.

“I’m sorry. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Merlin said.

“Quite apart from the fact that dragons don’t exist,” Arthur said, scowling up at the very physical rebuttal to his argument, but the odd happenings of the past few months since he'd arrived in Wales returned to him now.

“And yet here I am, Pendragon.”

Arthur continued glaring, aware he was being mocked and not liking it one bit, and even in the midst of the entire bizarre situation, he found time to wonder how it could possibly know their names. And he really didn’t like the way Merlin was still transfixed by the sight before him, exhibiting no fear now whatsoever.

The dragon spoke again. “You called me, Merlin. Your very presence here woke me. Only a Dragonlord could call me back. Only someone with your magic could wake me.”

Merlin shook his head. “There’s no such thing as magic. I don’t know what’s happened here but it’s nothing to do with me.” He was beginning to sound upset, delivering his usual rebuttal about magic with bite.

The dragon peered at them, seeming almost pensive and then drew in a deep breath. For a moment sheer panic overtook Arthur, quite convinced they were about to be burned to a crisp. Instead, when the dragon exhaled, a light golden cloud enveloped them both, then dissipated into the night air.

“Ah, it seems the Old Religion finally learned compassion. It is not your time yet to finally fulfil your great destiny. But we have been brought together now for a reason, young w- Merlin. I see you and Pendragon together, and I can sense others that are part of our story.”

Arthur felt himself flush and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering if he really had heard a certain amount of salacious glee in the dragon’s tone.

“What on earth does all this _mean?_ ” Merlin demanded. “How can you even exist?”

The dragon fixed his gaze on Merlin, considering him and when he spoke again his voice was gentle. “I am an ancient creature, born of magic, but even I do not know the will of the Gods or the Goddesses. We have been brought together for a reason and it is up to you, Merlin, to discover what it is.”

“Me?”

“You.” The great wings unfurled, and it was as if the dragon had abruptly lost interest in the conversation. “When you need me, call for me and I will come. Until then, it is many ages of men since I have taken wing above the skies of Albion.” 

“Wait. How can I call you?”

There was low, grumbling laughter that made Arthur flinch in recognition. “You will know, Merlin. When the time comes, you will know.”

With a great downdraft of air, the dragon pushed itself from the ground and the only sound in the night was the beating of great wings. Merlin and Arthur were left staring at one another.

“Please tell me you saw all that as well.” There was sheer desperation in Merlin’s voice and Arthur responded to it, pulling him into his arms.

“I saw it,” Arthur said. “And there’s a bloody great hole in the ground we’re going to have to explain away tomorrow, too.” He thought for a moment. “We’ll have to say the site is unsafe. Which means you and I need to cover it up and I’ll organise to have it shut off. Then we’re going to go home, have a very large glass of whisky and tell Gaius all about it.”

“Gaius? Do you really think he’ll believe this?”

“Yes,” Arthur replied. “Yes, I rather think he will.”

They stepped towards the edge and stared. Despite the fact they'd witnessed the upheaval of earth and masonry as the dragon had emerged, what they saw now was the mosaic, as clean and undamaged as before; except now one half was covered in dark blue tiles and one half in light-blue, both sides matching in their emptiness.

“Oh God,” Merlin moaned, as he stared at yet another impossible sight. “I’ll have to come out to the site to face the M and Ms tomorrow.”

“For God’s sake, Merlin, you just faced a real life dragon.” Arthur didn’t attempt to dissuade him, quite sure this time he would be unsuccessful.

Merlin waved his hand, “Big scary dragon, small scary Morgause. Not that much in it, really.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“We’ll still close the site – then we don’t have to worry about how to explain this.” 

And he dragged Merlin towards the car to begin making the necessary calls.

**

Gaius was remarkably sanguine about the whole thing, which should have concerned Arthur, if he and Merlin weren't in much the same state. The rapid acceptance of the dragon and all it inferred was staggering really, and yet they discussed it as if it was something that happened every day.

“I wonder if it’s all tied up with the thefts. If someone is stealing actual magical artefacts, it might have triggered some response from some power somewhere,” Gaius said.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Merlin said. Gaius and Arthur stared at him. 

“What?”

“Considering the events of the evening, I think perhaps there needs to be some adjustments in our view of what is and isn't real.” Gaius said.

Arthur just smacked Merlin across the head.

“Ow! Why did you hit me?” Merlin asked. “I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Then don’t do it if it doesn’t mean anything.”

Arthur met his eyes, and then dropped his own. He reached out to smooth his hand over the dark hair. “Sorry.”

Merlin caught his hand as it fell away and squeezed it.

Gaius was watching them fondly. “I think tomorrow we need to take another look at all the information on the stolen artefacts in the light of what we know now.”

Arthur nodded, standing straight and tall. “I need to go into the museum and Merlin needs to go to the dig site. And Gaius, you were heading out to Pembrokeshire?” He waited until everyone nodded. “Then we start reviewing what we know tomorrow evening and all clear our diaries for the day after. Probably best to work from here. I’m going to ring the security company now to find out why there isn’t someone on the site, and they can arrange for a cordon to be put round the mosaic for the time being. We need to sleep. The morning's time enough to deal with anything else.”

**

Arthur was woken from a deep sleep by Merlin’s sudden exclamation.

“Fuck. We didn’t tell the dragon about aeroplanes!” 

**

Merlin found it difficult enough to sleep with the words of the dragon swirling through his mind, and the forced realignment of all he'd believed. No matter how much he might wish it otherwise, magic and magical creatures existed. His stomach lurched at the thought and he swallowed hard. All he could do for comfort was to huddle close to Arthur’s warmth while he tried to clear his mind. In the end he gave up, slipping out of the bed in the early dawn light and setting the coffee on while he showered.

He was already dressed by the time the scent of the coffee drew Arthur from bed and they exchanged a smile. They'd quickly fallen into a morning routine, both happy to say little and let the day start quietly, drinking coffee, eating toast and leafing through the morning papers. Arthur had taken to checking his calendar and listing what he needed to do and what he needed other people to do. It was a level of domesticity neither had known and although they didn't talk about it, there was a sense of a balance found, a familiarity and closeness both craved.

By the time Arthur finished his toast, Merlin was ready to leave.

“You’ll be early,” Arthur said.

“I need to be there before the diggers – and the M and Ms are always first on site.” Merlin grimaced, not looking forward to facing the three of them. He hesitated before he spoke again. “I let Lance know I was going out to the site. He’s picking me up in five minutes. He didn’t want me to go alone.”

Arthur grunted. “Nothing at all to do with the beautiful Gwen being out at the site, then? I’ve had the cordon put well back and the whole site is covered over, so no-one should be able to see the dragon has disappeared.”

“You mean the dragon currently scaring the shit out of any random pilot who happens to cross Welsh air space.”

“I’d take bets the thing is never seen by anyone other than us.” Arthur replied.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you think so?”

Merlin frowned down at the table top. He wanted to think about the dragon as little as possible, torn as he was between a bewildering sense of kinship and resentment at having his life-long aversion to magic in any form overturned. Arthur was right, though, he felt sure only the people involved in whatever was happening here would ever see the dragon. He shrugged, unwilling to discuss it.

“I expect the M and Ms will give me a hard time,” Merlin said, changing the subject and while he noticed the sharp glance Arthur threw in his direction, Arthur seemed happy enough to let it go – at least for the moment.

“Just turn your charm on them – I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Merlin snorted. “No amount of charm is going to make them like me.” It really bothered him. He'd ambled happily through his life and having been blessed with an amiable nature and a friendliness that drew people in, he'd never before met someone who actively disliked him. He'd racked his brains but could think of no reason why they should be the way they were. 

“Here.” 

He looked up to see Arthur beside him, witnessing a stern but kind expression he wasn't sure he recognised before he was drawn to his feet and wrapped up in Arthur’s arms.

“The problem is theirs, Merlin, not yours. And at least they like you well enough to help you when you’re in trouble.”

Merlin allowed himself to relax into Arthur’s embrace for a few moments, before leaning over to kiss him soundly. His hands slid across the broad back, enjoying the shiver of muscles moving in reaction to his touch. 

“I’ll see you later,” Merlin managed, almost lost for words, and he kissed Arthur again before he headed down the stairs.

**

Although his intention had been to get to the villa site early, the fact he had to wait for Lance to pick him up meant Merlin was still beaten to it by his arch nemeses. He sighed and trotted across the field to where he could see them arguing with the security guard. Lance followed in his wake for a few steps before he suddenly veered off towards Gwen.

“Morning.” Merlin tried to maintain his normal friendly demeanour even in the face of Morgause’s obvious ire. “Bit of a problem - the site's been declared unsafe and we’re going to have to shut down the dig until we get all the issues sorted out. I’m sure we’ll be up and running again soon, but until then I’m afraid no-one's allowed on site.”

None of them looked as if they believed a single word of what he’d just said.

Merlin watched as Morgause exchanged a look with the others and then walked towards him. As always, he had to suppress his urge to back away. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

“I know you're not telling the truth and you'll not tell us what you've done.” She held up her hands before he could get a word in. “You're in danger – both of you.”

“What do you know?” Merlin asked. Who was this woman? And who exactly did she mean when she said ‘both’? Somehow, he wasn’t at all sure it was Arthur she was referring to. “Who are you anyway?” He looked at the other two, seeing the way Mordred was staring at his feet, Morgana biting her lip. 

Morgause shook her head. “You don't know us, Emrys. It's best it remains so.”

“My name’s Emerson, not Emrys,” he said. His patience with the whole situation was thin in the extreme and the usual care he exercised in dealing with the three of them was being eroded. How hard was it to get some answers, damn it?

“Of course. My apologies for the mistake,” Morgause said, her voice honey-smooth and Merlin was quite convinced she'd no thought of it being a mistake at all.

“The site is closed,” he said. “I’ll contact you when it reopens.” Possibly a couple of days after Hell freezes over. Maintaining as much dignity as he could, he stalked away from them and refused to look back although he was convinced three pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

**

The next couple of weeks were spent reviewing all of the evidence the police had gathered. Every so often, Arthur would notice Merlin throw a frowning glance at the sky and wondered once or twice himself whether he actually had heard the sound of vast, leathery wings. They didn’t seem to be getting much further forward and the thefts were still continuing, however, and were all becoming frustrated.

**

“What on earth is going on now?” Arthur asked, as if the motley crew of people in swirling robes were not something of a giant clue.

“Druids. Again,” Geraint said and as hard as he was trying to maintain his usual phlegmatic countenance, he couldn’t completely hide the exasperation.

“What do they want now?” As if Arthur didn’t know.

“The Red Lady.”

“I’ve already told them she’s not for sale.”

Geraint raised his eyes to the ceiling and Arthur spent a brief moment wondering if it was right for the Director to be mocked in such a manner by his subordinates, but he didn’t mind too much. The working relationships with most of his staff were streets ahead of the strained caution of the early days. That had reminded him too much of the atmosphere permeating his father’s company. He was suddenly distracted by a Druid, whose banner was exhorting the world to give up their false God.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake?” he muttered. “Where’s our esteemed Director of Communications, then?”

“Working on statements, press releases, corralling the media, briefing the civil servants – you name it, the Comms team is on it. At least we have all the stuff they did last time.”

“We didn’t get any notice this time either, I assume?”

“Nope.” Geraint moved to intercept the little group of Druids who seemed to be unnaturally interested in the donations box.

“Oh, buggering bollocks,” Merlin said, appearing at Arthur’s side.

“Good morning to you, Dr Emerson.”

“Never mind the press releases and statements. Why don’t I just tell them to bugger off?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Since he'd known Merlin, he'd seen him in many states, but not even someone attempting to murder him on a couple of occasions had reduced him to such despair and loathing. 

“You really don’t like them, do you?” It was hardly a question.

“I really, really don’t,” Merlin agreed. He grimaced and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t like any of the mumbo jumbo – but this group are the worst. They’ve used the historical narrative to try to legitimise their existence and it … it sickens me.”

“Bit of an extreme reaction, perhaps?” Arthur tried not to be judgemental, but for someone who was generally so accepting and tolerant of others, Merlin’s reaction was distinctly odd.

Merlin shrugged in response and opened his mouth to speak just as the discordant sound of the fire alarm rang through the great hall.

Arthur met Geraint’s gaze and felt a sudden surge of pride at the way the staff immediately reacted, calm and controlled as they fell into their roles and began to usher the visitors from the premises.

“I’ll see you outside,” he said to Merlin, giving him a little shove in the direction of the door and trying to avoid the thought of fire and the memories of being trapped in the flat with Merlin, the smell of the smoke and the roar of the flames.

“You’re coming with me,” Merlin said, his hand already tugging at Arthur’s sleeve.

“I’m not leaving this building until I know everyone else is out.”

“This isn’t a bloody ship, you plonker. They don’t need you here getting in the way. Everyone knows their job.”

“Of course they do, Merlin. And I know mine.”

“Fine.” Merlin folded his arms and stared at him, not shifting from his side.

People brushed by them, the numbers heading down the stairs easing as the galleries emptied. Everyone was calm and Arthur accepted most of them probably thought it was a drill as there was neither smoke nor any other signs it was a real emergency. He knew better though, because he'd seen the antiquated state of the electrics and other plant in the building and even though it was all well-maintained, he'd already set aside some of the budget to address it. This was a huge building, on many levels, and if there was a fire, it could be anywhere.

In the distance, he could hear the wail of the fire engines growing steadily closer.

The flow of people had eased to a trickle now and it was mostly staff members who'd been checking the galleries who were now tailing onto the back of the lines of people exiting.

Arthur frowned.

“Where’s Geraint?”

“I haven’t seen him since he headed off to see those Druids,” Merlin said.

They stared at one another. 

“Oh my God, Merlin,” Arthur whispered. “The bloody Druids.”

Merlin started as if someone had stuck him with a pin. “It’s a diversion, Arthur. They’re trying to steal the Red Lady. Fuck!” 

And before Arthur could stop him, Merlin was off, barrelling along the entrance hall towards the archaeology gallery. Arthur saw Leon heading down from the offices and grabbed him. “Get the police here – I think there’s a theft in progress.” And was endlessly grateful for his Assistant Director as Leon simply nodded and fished out his phone without demanding any explanations. Nor did Leon try to stop Arthur as, in defiance of any procedure set down for actions when the fire alarm was raised, he set off in pursuit of his Assistant Keeper of Archaeology. Arthur was fairly certain the fire officer in charge of the incident would tear him a new one when he worked out what was going on, but right now he'd other things to worry about.

Arthur skidded to a halt in front of the heavy doors into the gallery and pushed his way through. Already, he could hear Merlin’s voice, recognising it even though it was filled with fury, the tone enough to raise the hairs on his arms. 

He shivered.

Merlin had been right. In front of the case holding the bones was a cluster of robed figures made all the more incongruous by the state of the art tools and all the more dangerous by the guns a couple of them were holding. Arthur had never seen a gun close to, and these looked so very menacing held competently by men Arthur was quite convinced had no business wearing Druid robes. Moving closer, he could see Geraint sprawled off to the side and his heart sank until he realised there was no blood and he could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. Once Arthur knew he was most likely just knocked out, he was able to start breathing again.

Every protocol in the book stated that in this situation, you let the scary mad people take the fucking stuff, because the staff and visitors to the museum were more important than any artefact. Always. It was also clear Merlin had either not read the standard operating procedures when in a totally fucked up situation, or had read them and decided they didn’t apply to him when his precious archaeology was threatened. Merlin was standing in front of the man who appeared to be in charge, hands on hips and ignoring the guns pointed at him as he upbraided the robed figure. Arthur recalled the sight of Kanen rifling through his desk and wondered if he was right in his suspicions. Especially as Kanen had been caught trying to intimidate some of the younger staff into helping him get round the new security procedures Arthur had instigated. Arthur had taken great delight in informing Kanen that the desk in his office was now, without a doubt, completely empty. Kanen hadn't been seen since, much to everyone’s relief.

Arthur stepped forward, deciding he needed to buy as much time as possible to keep the situation calm until the police arrived, and also needed to step in before Merlin could say something that would get him into more trouble than he could handle.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon. I'm the Director of this museum and as such I'm asking you to leave.”

It was hardly going to work, but at least it deflected attention from Merlin.

The man Merlin had been shouting at turned to face him and Arthur felt as if all the blood within him had congealed into one solid mass in his gut.

“Father?” So not who he'd been expecting. In his peripheral vision he saw Merlin’s mouth drop open in shock.

“My son.” There was a sonorous note in Uther’s voice Arthur didn't recognise and the mad glint in Uther’s eyes was distinctly worrying. Uther stepped forward and spread his arms as if he was about to embrace Arthur. Arthur stepped back, warily and walked around him to stand in front of Merlin, shielding him and ignoring the annoyed mutter.

“Why are you here, father? And what’s going on?” 

“It's the magic, Arthur. Do you not feel it in the world? It calls to me, calls me to draw it together.” 

“You? You’re behind all the thefts from museums?” Arthur felt Merlin twitch and reached behind him, catching an arm and squeezing tight in warning, as well as for his own reassurance and comfort, before he continued. “And guns, father? I would feel much safer if your men put those away.”

Uther waved a hand and Arthur relaxed when he saw the firearms disappear from view. He was even happier when the doors at the end of the gallery opened and figures in police uniform spilled into the space. Uther appeared supremely unconcerned by the failure of his attempted theft and Arthur filed the thought away to chew over later. There was movement behind him when Merlin obviously caught sight of Lance and Arthur watched, narrow-eyed, as Merlin scuttled across and spoke quietly and urgently to him.

Lance stepped forward, as courteous as always, and arrested them all, ensuring they were searched and a variety of armaments removed. It was all remarkably civilised in the end but Arthur was only peripherally aware of what was happening around him, his own gaze still fixed on the apparently calm figure of his father.

The last time Arthur had seen his father, the man had disowned him. Ten years ago. When Uther Pendragon had been the stern figurehead of a multi-national company. The only contact Arthur had had since was with his uncle, Agravaine, who'd taken over the reins of the company when Uther announced his suddenly shocking decision to retire. Agravaine had visited Arthur at university to discuss the business and Arthur had made it quite clear the wanted nothing to do with it and was happy to leave it in his uncle’s hands. Agravaine had been pleased, but also insisted Arthur received shares that had belonged to his mother. It gave him a substantial holding in the company and enough of an income that, should he choose, he could live comfortably without having to work another day in his life. To date, Arthur hadn't touched a penny of it.

Now he stared at his father and wondered what on earth had happened to turn him into a bearded, robe-wearing fanatic. Even now, with his hands cuffed behind him and his disreputable appearance, there was something in Uther’s demeanour that had a small part of Arthur cowering like the young child he'd once been. And then Merlin moved to stand by his side and in his presence Arthur found a new strength. Arthur lifted his chin and cast his eyes across the men who'd been arrested with his father. None of them looked as if they'd any particularly strong religious beliefs and appeared to be more like the hired heavies Uther had always been surrounded by.

Arthur felt his own features harden as his gaze returned to rest on his father and he knew the cold dislike was reflected in his tone when he spoke. He couldn’t help himself, he'd always love his father and a small part would always mourn the lack of parental support and the outward expression of love he'd never known. It didn’t mean he had to like the man, however.

“You've caused a great deal of damage and loss to the archaeological record of this country, Mr Pendragon. Much more importantly, you've attacked and injured one of my staff. I intend to ensure you are prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Detective Inspector DuLac, I'd be obliged if you would remove these ruffians from my museum.”

So saying, Arthur turned and made his way across to Geraint, who was just coming around, and was being looked after by one of the policemen. The fire alarm had been silenced, but the public had yet to be readmitted to the museum. 

**

Merlin stood to the side and watched as Arthur took control. He was still reeling from the discovery that the man behind all those thefts was Arthur’s father and he could barely imagine what the knowledge must be doing to Arthur. He was also going to have to break the news later that one of the men with Uther had been the man who'd attempted to mug Merlin out at the dig site. At the moment, there was no serious sign of any impact of his father’s involvement on Arthur, though, as Merlin listened to Arthur’s conversations with Geraint’s deputy, Gareth, and Leon. They arranged for the museum to remain closed for the rest of the day, enabling the police to carry out their investigations and take statements from the rest of the staff. 

Yet Merlin could see the coiled tension in Arthur, the pinched expression on his features, and the defeated slope to his shoulders; things only someone who knew him intimately would recognise. This had hurt Arthur in ways Merlin couldn't begin to imagine and he wanted nothing more than to draw him into his arms and offer all the comfort he could. He knew Arthur well enough not to attempt it, not here where others could witness weakness – or what Arthur would perceive as a weakness and anyone else would consider an appropriate response to discovering one’s father was a one man crime spree, not to mention as nutty as a fruitcake. 

Arthur glanced up and caught his eyes, and Merlin could see the desperation and a slight wavering of control that made Merlin desperate to wrap him up and let him fall apart in his arms. But, no, he wouldn't do that to Arthur. Merlin wouldn't let him fail now.

“Arthur, do you want me to carry out a check of the gallery contents?” he asked.

“Yes, please, Merlin, that would be helpful – just in case it was some kind of elaborate double bluff and they’ve walked off with something else entirely.” He walked across to Merlin then and reached out to squeeze his shoulder, the only outward expression Merlin thought Arthur could allow himself. 

Merlin smiled at him, trying to invest all his faith and love and support in his expression and was gratified when some of the tension oozed from Arthur’s frame and he was graced with a quick quirk of his mouth. Merlin said, “I’ll see you at home later, okay?” He waited just long enough to see Arthur’s nod of acknowledgement before he set off for his office and the gallery inventory. He passed the Communications Director on the way. The poor man looked as harried as Merlin had ever seen him and was trailing most of his staff behind him, all of whom seemed to be have Blackberries attached to their ears.

As he left the gallery he could hear Arthur’s voice, calm and in control, issuing orders.

Like a king in command of an army, Merlin thought, and wondered why the image brought a lump to his throat. 

**

Arthur let himself quietly into the house. It was well after midnight but he knew Merlin wouldn't have gone to bed. He saw the soft light in the sitting room still on and wandered into the room. Merlin looked up as he entered, closing the book he was reading and taking off his glasses as he stood up.

“Hi,” Merlin whispered, and only then did Arthur notice Gaius asleep in the armchair.

His own voice was as quiet. “Hi,” he said, and leaned in for a kiss, sighing and burying his face against Merlin’s neck as he was enfolded in strong arms.

“Hell of a day,” Merlin said.

“We seem to be having more of those than our fair share,” Arthur said, his words slightly muffled because he hadn't raised his head. 

“Do you want to talk about your Dad?”

“Not tonight – right now I just want to have a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow's going to be yet another media circus. Leon's going to act as spokesperson – we decided the involvement of my father makes it sensible for me to take a back seat on this side of it at least.” 

“Leon’s a good man.”

“That he is.”

They stood in a silent embrace for a few moments more, until Merlin could feel Arthur becoming heavier in his arms and he sent him upstairs, leaving Merlin to wake Gaius and send him off to bed too. With extra care, he checked all the doors and windows before he followed Arthur up to the flat. 

By the time Arthur had finished in the shower, Merlin was in bed. Arthur wandered in and stood by the side of the bed, looking lost and forlorn, like a child who’d lost a parent. Merlin swallowed at the sight but didn’t try to speak. Instead, he opened his arms in invitation and his heart thumped hard at the soft, broken noise that escaped before Arthur swallowed and scrambled into the bed and into Merlin’s arms.

Neither attempted to speak. Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur and held on tight, waiting until Arthur’s body had relaxed into sleep before he closed his own eyes.

**

Despite all the events of the day, both slept surprisingly well, and it wasn't until Gaius banged on the door to the flat early the next morning that either man stirred, waking to find themselves in the same tangle of limbs they’d fallen asleep in, grinning sheepishly at one another and forgetting for a moment the spectre of Uther.

By the time they were showered and dressed, both Lance and Leon had arrived and Gaius was in the midst of grilling bacon and mushrooms, piling the fragrant results into soft rolls and placing them in the centre of the table next to the biggest teapot Arthur had ever seen.

“Dig in, boys,” Gaius said, and Arthur could've kissed him for the practicality and good sense. “It’s going to be a busy day.”

And nothing else other than requests for sauce or milk was heard until they'd eaten a couple of rolls apiece and refilled their mugs for the second time.

Lance was the first to speak. “Uther Pendragon was bailed last night. Some fancy London lawyer arrived and that was that. The others were all bailed, too.” He shrugged, and then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “They’re investigating him over the fire at the flat, Arthur. And the attack on Merlin, because Merlin recognised one of them yesterday as the man at the site.” Lance pushed the words out as quickly as possible, as if by doing so he could somehow mitigate the effect the knowledge he was imparting might have on Arthur.

Merlin reached across, uncaring of any audience, or anything they'd discussed about keeping their relationship private from work colleagues, and grabbed hold of Arthur’s hand. Arthur looked up to meet his eyes, startled, and then glanced at Lance and Leon, neither of whom had batted an eyelid. He supposed their display at the site when Merlin had been attacked had blown their cover already. Arthur managed a smile for Merlin then and shifted his hand to interlink their fingers.

“I don’t know what’s happened to him. Uncle Agravaine tried to talk to me when Uther retired.” Arthur couldn’t call him his father, not any more. “But I really didn’t want to listen. I’ll ring Agravaine later and see if anything he says can shed some light on what went wrong.”

“Have we any idea where Uther is?” Merlin asked.

“I’ve got a couple of plain-clothed guys tailing him, but we don’t really have the resource for much else. My chief inspector is discussing it with the boss later. It may be that it moves away from the Art Theft squad and into the serious crimes unit. That might be for the best,” Lance said. “They’ve certainly got more resources and if – “ He stopped suddenly but they all heard the unsaid words. If your father is willing to kill his own son…

Arthur swallowed and returned the tightening grip of Merlin’s fingers. There was a long silence. 

“We’ve got warrants to search various premises and hopefully at least it means the thefts will stop – especially if he knows we’re on to him.”

Arthur nodded. “What do we have today, Leon?” 

“Press briefing at 11am – I’ll handle that as we discussed but it would be useful if you were involved in the pre-meeting before we go in. We’re clearing the lines with the civil servants now. Interviews with the police this afternoon.” He nodded at Lance and grinned. “In between, we've a meeting about Kanen. Lance, we’ll need to talk to you about that once all of this blows over.”

Lance raised his eyebrows but didn’t probe, much to Arthur’s relief.

“Merlin, what about you?” Arthur asked.

“I’ll work in my office today. I can do some writing up on the dig, and look at the data I’ve been gathering for Lance. Is there a statement I can see, Lance? It might throw a bit of light on why these objects were targeted.”

Lance looked uneasy, casting a glance at Arthur who waved a hand wearily, he hardly dared hope Uther’s statement would cast any light on what had happened.

“Uther's ill, Lance, that much is quite clear. It seems like paranoid delusions are part of it. I can cope, I promise.”

“I’ll get the statements of everyone we arrested to you this morning.”

“Well, if you don’t mind I think I'll avoid the general kerfuffle and head off to my dig site. At least we should get some peace there,” Gaius said.

The meeting broke up, Lance heading off to the station, Gaius joining Huw, who'd come to pick him up in an ancient, rickety Land Rover that had Arthur handing over his car keys instead as soon as he heard it rattle and grind to a halt. He pretended not to notice the gleam in Gaius’ eyes as he all but snatched the keys to the BMW, only muttering quietly to Merlin, “Tell me your Mum taught him to drive?”

Merlin looked surprised at the mention of her, and then pleased. “She did. He’s a very good driver but a bit of a speed merchant. Don’t worry – he was amazing on the skid pan.”

Arthur gulped.

When the rest had gone, Merlin locked up the house and the three men walked the short distance to the museum, slipping in at the staff entrance and missing the melée of police and press still clustered around the front. With a nod to Merlin, Arthur walked off with Leon. He was aware of the exasperated snort as Merlin stomped off, but he had to maintain at least some semblance of professionalism. Still, it was going to be a long day and in a fit of spontaneity he spun on his heel grabbed Merlin by his elbow and pulled him into his arms. Arthur captured Merlin’s mouth in a kiss that was almost brutal, holding a hint of the desperation and fear he was trying so hard to hide.

Merlin murmured in response and brought his hand up to cup Arthur’s jaw, gentling the kiss until it was more about affection than panic.

“Don’t work too hard, yeah? I’ll see you at home later.”

Arthur swallowed and nodded, taking in a deep breath. 

He watched this time as Merlin slipped along the corridor towards his own office and when he turned to find Leon waiting, his grin splitting his face, he couldn't bring himself to care.

“Well, then. Let’s get to the office and find out what’s going on. You can get off and get some sleep straight after the press briefing – I know you’ve been here all night.”

“Sounds good to me.” Leon did his best to stifle his massive yawn.

**

It was late by the time Arthur made it home, after a day of dealing with all the fall out from the attempted theft. Merlin met him at the door of the flat, wordlessly handing him a tumbler with a good measure of Scotch. All Arthur could manage in response was a weak smile and a buss on the cheek.

“Go shower and change. I’ve phoned for pizza. Gaius isn’t back yet so I thought we might as well eat here. Is that okay?” Merlin asked.

Arthur leaned against him and nodded, shutting his eyes for a moment. God, when had he ever been this tired in his life? Even the effects of the concussion hadn't left him in this state. A shower, pizza and an evening slumped on the sofa with Merlin for company had immeasurable appeal.

When Arthur returned, feeling better even for the shower, he joined Merlin on the terrace, switching to beer as they ate the pizza straight from the box. The evening was dull, but it was still warm enough to enjoy some time in the fresh air and chat gently about everything other than the museum, suspicious magical goings on, or mad fathers. 

Merlin was regaling him with a tale involving a Roman dig in north Wales, a stripogram and a wheelbarrow when Merlin’s mobile sounded from the lounge. Leaving a laughing Arthur, he slipped into the room and grabbed it.

“’Lo?” He wandered back onto the terrace.

“Merlin?”

“Gauis? Where are you?”

Gaius’ voice sounded wrong, as if he was scared, which was enough to alarm Merlin, but he was whispering, too.

“Merlin, there are some men here with a low loader and a crane. I think they’re going to steal the stones.”

“What?” An image of some of Uther’s heavies and their guns flashed through his mind. “Gaius – get out of there and call the police.” Arthur looked up at him in alarm, mouthing a silent query. Merlin shook his head and held up his hand, a universal signal for wait as he listened to what Gaius had to say.

“I’m afraid they're between us and the road. Oh, dear.”

There were sounds of loud voices in the background and then a scuffle before all sound cut off.

“Gaius? Gaius!” 

There was no response and eventually Merlin ended the call, staring mutely at Arthur, who stood up in alarm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned by Merlin’s sudden pallor.

“Someone's trying to steal the bluestones –and I think they may have found Gaius and Huw.”

Arthur swore. “Phone the police, Merlin. Hell!”

“What?” Merlin was already dialling and began spilling details as soon as he got past the 999 service and onto the police, using Lance’s name and Arthur’s to get through. 

“Gaius has the car.”

“Well, it’s not like we can get there in time to do any good.” Merlin obviously considered what he'd said and gulped, the implications beginning to sink in. “Oh, God, Gaius. I don’t know what I’d do…” 

Arthur watched as panic flooded over Merlin’s expression, and wondered briefly what it must feel like to love someone so much that their possible loss could lead to such a reaction. And then he spared an even briefer thought about the possibility of ever losing Merlin and even though their relationship was still in its infancy, there was a bone-chilling terror that accompanied the very concept. He pushed it from him. There was no time for this.

“We need a helicopter.” Merlin said, looking about as if he could conjure one from thin air.

Arthur was suddenly very still, his breath catching in his throat as the maddest of crazy ideas hit him.

“What?” Merlin asked.

“The dragon.”

“Oh my God, you have to be kidding me.”

“I’m not. He could take us there, couldn’t he? He said you'd the power to call him.”

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Do you have any better suggestions?” Arthur demanded. 

He knew by now how visceral Merlin’s distaste was for magic and anything associated with it. In the beginning he'd believed it was because he hated all the fakery but if anything, the response had settled into an implacable hatred since the moment he'd discovered it wasn't all lies. 

“Merlin, it’s the only way we've a chance of getting there in time. The site is isolated and will take too long for the police to get there. Even if they've access to a helicopter, they still need to get men on the ground. Think what we could do with a dragon that breathes fire!”

There was a pause as he stopped to consider the completely ridiculous sentence he'd just uttered and it was enough time, too, to see the acknowledgement of the sense of his words seep through.

“We need to find somewhere the damn thing can land.”

“Bute Park is a street away.” While Arthur was speaking they were already grabbing anything they might need and, hand in hand, they clattered down the stairs and out into the evening light.

**

The dragon hadn’t got any smaller since the last time he’d seen it, Merlin thought as he scowled heavily at the creature. Something in him was twisting and uncoiling; something he didn’t understand. The first time he felt it was when he'd called the dragon from the earth and he'd tried so hard to forget it, but it had simmered beneath the surface of his mind ever since. Now, having called the dragon to him, and he still had no real idea how he'd done it, this odd feeling was sweeping through him again. He twitched and held on tighter to Arthur’s hand. Merlin felt like it was the only thing tethering him to his humanity. He managed a feeble smile, feeling Arthur’s concern like a physical force, wrapping around him and he was grateful for the solidity of the fingers gripping his. Arthur would never let go. Arthur would always be with him. Merlin repeated the mantra to himself, having to believe it, pinning all his certainty on that one immutable fact.

“Ask me what you will, Merlin.”

Merlin swallowed, still unnerved by the fact the beast could speak. “We need your help. My friend Gaius is in trouble. We need to get to him. Can you take us into west Wales?”

Something grumbled through the huge form. “So, the physician is with you. This is good. I will take you.”

“We have to go to where the stones for Stonehenge came from. We can direct you,” Arthur said.

“No need. Stonehenge was known to my kin, as was the building of it, although we did not know it by that name. I know where the stones came from. How do you think the old ones managed to transport them in the first place?” As he spoke, he extended a foreleg and the next few moments passed in a flurry of awkward clambering as they found their way onto the dragon’s back. Arthur sat behind Merlin and wrapped his arms around his waist, while Merlin hung on for grim death to one of the ridges. Both of them yelled aloud as, with a great surge, the dragon was airborne.

“Fuck!”

“Buggering bollocks!”

The dragon laughed aloud, the sound vibrating through them. “Do not worry, young ones.” There was a mighty sweep of wings and they were travelling through the air at a speed Arthur thought had to be magically fast. “I would never let you fall.” 

There was exultation in the deep tone and as they settled into a steady pace and he became more accustomed to the movement, Arthur managed to relax his grip on Merlin just slightly and open his eyes. Merlin was sitting still and though he was holding onto the dragon, the face he turned to Arthur had a composure and acceptance Arthur didn't expect to see. He stored away the memory of it, putting it to one side to ask Merlin about later.

It seemed to take no time at all before the dragon was sweeping in a wide arc over the area of the quarry. From above, they could see it was a hive of activity and more reassuringly in the distance could see the flashing blue lights of several vehicles wending their way through the Welsh countryside. The silence of their glide brought another sound to their attention, and Arthur tightened his hold as he recognised the steady whump whump of a helicopter.

The dragon gave them enough time to see the position of the low loader at the mouth of the quarry, obviously as close as the men could get it. There were a couple of forklift trucks, a mobile crane, and men with other digging equipment working around the two uncovered stones. Merlin gripped Arthur’s hand and pointed off to the side. Even from this vantage point, Arthur recognised the figures of Gaius and Huw, noticing the two men standing guard over them.

Quietly, the dragon settled itself onto the ground, and they slipped down just as clumsily as they had climbed up. Arthur winced a little and stumbled, but Merlin shot out a hand to steady him.

“Will you wait?” Merlin looked up. “In case we need your help.”

“I will be here.”

They scrambled up to the lip of the quarry. The dragon had chosen the location well where the rock wall was lower and in the lights they could see an easy path down to the quarry floor. In the corner, carefully watched, were Gaius and Huw.

“What do we do now?” Merlin whispered.

Arthur studied the scenario before him as ways and means flooded through his mind, calculating odds, thinking over different approaches. He was about to offer the least worrying of his conclusions when the slightest of noises behind them caught his attention. Without even thinking about it, he clapped a hand over Merlin’s mouth and dragged him behind the nearest gorse bush.

Peering out, they watched as three forms appeared out of the gathering gloom. They were dressed in black and moved with a stealth breath-taking to watch. Arthur was just weighing this factor into his calculations when Merlin broke away from his hold and threw himself at one of the figures.

Turning and tumbling they rolled back down the hill, while Arthur, mentally cursing Merlin, dived after them, all too aware of the shadowy figures following. There was a muffled shout of triumph from Merlin and when they all slithered to a stop at the bottom of the slope, Merlin was perched on top of someone, holding their hands above their head as he reached out and dragged off the balaclava.

Bright, long blonde hair tumbled out.

Somehow, Arthur wasn't surprised and turned to face the others, raising an eyebrow as first Mordred and then Morgana revealed their faces. 

Merlin gaped, and Arthur felt hysteria creep in as he recognised the moment Merlin realised he was pinning down Morgause. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Morgause’s voice was icy.

Merlin shot backwards and clambered to his feet, staring around warily at the three of them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Arthur demanded.

“We could ask the same of you.” Morgause continued to brush herself down and her cool indifference was infuriating.

“Do you have anything to do with this? Are you involved with the thefts?” Merlin was glaring at them.

Morgana stepped forward. “No, but when we realised what was happening, this seemed like an obvious target. We talked to some people and they gave us the information.”

“You didn’t think to either inform the museum or the police?” Arthur asked.

“We need information. And to get it, we need to talk to someone further up the chain than the people we've been able to interrogate. This seemed like our best hope at getting to the person responsible.”

“We already know who’s responsible. What we don’t know is why.” Merlin glanced at Arthur and looked almost sorry to have brought that point to the fore. Arthur shrugged at him, there was no way to avoid the facts coming out and he saw no point in trying. He'd done nothing either wrong or to be ashamed of.  
Still, he was more grateful than he could ever say when Merlin moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Really? Well, as we know the why of this and you know the who, it would seem sensible for us to work together,” Morgause said.

“Why would we trust you?” Merlin asked and he was as hostile as Arthur had ever heard.

For the first time, Mordred spoke. “Your instincts remember, even if you do not.” 

It sounded so like grief in his voice that it shook Arthur although he couldn't imagine why it should be so when he hardly knew these people. Yet he couldn't explain his own lingering sense of betrayal when he looked at them, especially Morgana. And Mordred’s words made no sense whatsoever.

Arthur brushed it all aside for the time being. “We don’t have time to argue. Uther Pendragon is the man behind the thefts.”

For the first time, Morgause actually seemed to have a human expression on her face as her mouth twisted. “We've been very stupid,” she said. “We should have guessed, should have realised.”

“We’ve told you who – now tell us why.” Merlin said. “And quickly, because we need to rescue Gaius.”

“All the thefts from museums, anything that hasn't been recovered, have been artefacts with some connection to magic and the Old Religion,” Morgause said.

“There’s no such thing as magic.” 

Even to Arthur’s ears Merlin’s usual refutation sounded weak and he wasn't particularly surprised when Morgause snorted.

“And yet you and you alone awoke the Great Dragon. Don’t be such a fool, Merlin.”

“Leaving that aside,” Arthur broke in quickly, because there was an alarming bitterness in Morgause’s tone. “Why would Uther steal items he believed had magical significance?”

Morgause shrugged. “I've no idea, but I don't believe it's for any good reason.”

“Well, we can ask him later. Right now, I think we need to do something about what’s going on here. The police are on their way but I’d like to get Gaius and Huw out of there before they arrive.” There was time to discuss this mystery later, right now Arthur was more concerned about his friends and colleagues.

Morgause nodded in agreement. “We'll help you. I'd like to interrogate one of the men to see if we can glean any more information.”

Arthur wasn’t too sure he trusted any of them, but could see no concrete reason to refuse their help. “They’re holding Gaius and Huw off to the side in a corner of the quarry. They’re out of the way so if we’re quiet, we may be able to overpower the guards and get Gaius and Huw out without raising anyone else’s attention.”

“On the other hand,” Morgause interrupted. “We could create a diversion.”

Arthur scowled but didn't respond to her suggestion, gesturing for them to move off instead. They worked their way down and around until they were as close to the prisoners as they could get without breaking cover before Arthur felt his stomach drop and heard Merlin’s horrified gasp as Morgause’s eyes washed with gold. Across the other side of the quarry, where the men were working to load one of the stones onto the low loader, an unmanned forklift truck began to trundle down a slope. She smiled smugly at Merlin as the cries of alarm and sudden stampede of men involved in trying to stop it drew one of guards away.

“Let’s go.” Arthur said, and led the way, moving away from the shadow of the rock and tackling the remaining guard. Arthur had taken him completely by surprise and the struggle was short as, with Morgause’s help, he soon had the man restrained. Arthur could hear Merlin and Morgana reassuring Gaius and Huw as they freed them. Mordred was watching the activity elsewhere with a keen gaze, ready to raise the alarm if anyone looked in their direction, and Morgause – 

Arthur swallowed. Morgause had a hand to the side of the downed man’s face. Her eyes were glowing bright gold once more and the man stopped struggling, his features going completely blank before his eyes rolled back in his head.

“What have you done?” Arthur demanded.

“He’s sleeping. He didn’t know much but there’s something – Come, time for talking when we're safe.”

They followed the others around a spur of rock and hurried them away as quickly as the two elderly men could manage. As they moved, they heard the increase in activity and alarm behind them as uniformed figures suddenly poured through the quarry entrance, culminating in a shouted announcement from the police for everyone to stay where they were. Once they were sure they were out of sight, Merlin and Arthur stopped to take in what was happening. Morgana joined them, peering out to watch.

Arthur frowned as he recognised Lance in the middle of the action, calmly directing the operation as uniformed officers rounded up the thieves – or at least attempted to as they were not making the job easy and it was some time before they seemed to have the situation under control.

 

As soon as Arthur felt it was safe, he broke cover, ignoring the startled exclamation behind him and then quiet cursing from the others as they followed.

A uniformed officer stopped them in their tracks. “Excuse me, sir but you shouldn’t be here.”

“I need to talk to DI DuLac.” Arthur held a hand up, completely unaware of the authority in his actions and demeanour. “We’ll wait here, but please tell him that Dr Pendragon and Dr Emerson would like to speak to him immediately.”

The man straightened and nodded. “Right away, sir,” he said and trotted off on his errand.

Arthur turned as he heard a snort, seeing Merlin’s amusement and something like pride in his expression. Morgana appeared unimpressed, standing with her arms folded but there was something in her gaze, a warmth and melancholy that unnerved Arthur, and he concentrated on Merlin.

“Something funny, Dr Emerson?”

“No sir, of course not, sir, wouldn’t dream of suggesting it, sir.”

Merlin was saved from any retribution as Lance jogged across to them. “Arthur! Merlin! How did you get here so quickly? Morgana?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if we told you,” Arthur said. “More to the point, Lance, how did you get here?”

“We got a tip off early this afternoon. I was already in Carmarthen.”

Arthur hesitated. “Lance, is this something to do with my father?”

Lance looked almost relieved as he answered. “No, although I’m not sure you’re going to like who is involved. Come on.” He towed them past the milling crowd and finally stopped at one of the police cars.

Arthur heard Merlin gasp as a figure sneered out at them from the back.

“Kanen!”

Arthur’s heart sank at the mere thought of the communications nightmare this was going to turn into, and tried not to be glad it wasn’t his father sitting there. He'd been so convinced Uther was behind this, too. But then…

“Lance,” Arthur asked. “Do you know who tipped you off? And has Kanen said anything about who told him we'd found the bluestones?”

“Kanen isn’t saying anything much, but we’ve already worked out there’s a container ship leaving Port Talbot tonight. We reckon he'd an overseas buyer for the stones and he planned for them to be on a ship and away before anyone was aware of the theft. The only thing he is saying is that he was stitched up, but he won’t say who. In fact, for a thoroughly nasty character, he seems to be distinctly nervous about letting anything slip. He’s angry – but he’s scared, too.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Merlin put into words what Arthur was thinking. “Kanen isn’t involved with the Druids, or with Uther, so why is he stealing the bluestones?”

“Nothing else stolen has been offered for sale as far as we know – not even a whiff of a rumour.” Lance said. “And some of the items recovered were high value. This doesn’t fit the pattern.” He shrugged. “We’ll transport the lot of them to Cardiff and talk to them there. I’ll let you know if I get anything else out of them. Some of the others may know or have heard something. And while I appreciate your help and support, you should all go home. There have been a couple of attempts on your lives already, not to mention the attempted theft.” He glanced at Morgana. “I expect if you're here then your friends are also nearby. I’m not quite sure why and I'd feel much happier if you went home, too. Arthur and Merlin can let you know what happens, but for the moment I'd prefer it if none of you were involved in the investigation.”

Arthur was about to argue but at that moment both Merlin and Morgana started at exactly the same time and then Merlin was tugging at his arm.

“We need to go, Arthur. We need to go now!”

Lance was looking on with suspicion. “Merlin, what're you up to?”

“Nothing, Lance. Nothing at all. We’re just going to go home now. Don’t give us another thought.” Merlin was edging backwards, and Arthur felt the gentle tug as he was pulled along. He shrugged at Lance aware of Lance’s confusion as he tailed Merlin, who was scurrying off towards the other side of the quarry. Technically, there was no exit from that side, but then Lance had no idea there was a not-so-mythical beast lurking close by. As they reached their earlier hiding place, Mordred stepped silently from the shadows. Arthur leapt back, ridiculously startled.

He pressed a hand to the centre of his chest. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” His heart felt as If it was going a hundred miles a minute.

Mordred shrugged, seemingly unconcerned although he frowned a little as Arthur’s hand unconsciously moved from his chest to press against his side.

“I'll take Gaius and Huw back to Cardiff.” Mordred said.

Merlin stepped in between them. “Thank you,” he said.

Mordred glanced between Merlin and Arthur and then, in what should have been a ridiculous gesture and yet was not, he bowed. “It's been an honour to serve you. I wish… Until we meet again.” He finished in a rush and then was moving away.

There was no time to puzzle over his odd behaviour and they waited just long enough for Merlin to take a moment to exchange a tight hug with Gaius and nod at the man’s whispered assertion to be careful before Merlin turned and dragged Arthur away.

“What the hell’s going on?” Arthur muttered as they scrambled up the slope and into the field beyond. In the moonlight he could see the great bulk of the dragon and the light caught a golden eye as it swung its head towards them. Morgause was already there, standing a wary distance from it.

“The dragon spoke to me – to us.” It was Morgana who answered and she sounded shaken.

Merlin cast a sideways glance at Morgana. Arthur’s gaze followed and even in the low light he could see how pale she was.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Yes. It was just … unexpected.” 

The dragon and Morgause seemed to be locked in a staring contest and Arthur wasn’t sure which one of them unnerved him the most.

“Okay, so what’s going on?” he demanded.

“You said someone had called you?” Merlin addressed the dragon and it turned its attention to Merlin. If Arthur didn’t know better he would've thought it looked upset.

“Our kin.”

Arthur heard Morgana gasp.

“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked. 

“Did you not wonder why there was only one dragon within the mosaic, Merlin?” 

“Aithusa. Aithusa has called you?” Morgana’s voice was redolent with grief and hope. She turned to Merlin and Arthur, explaining quickly. “Aithusa's the white dragon. He should've been within the mosaic, he should've been there with –“

“He is afraid.” The dragon said.

“What can a dragon have to fear?” Merlin demanded.

“What dragonkind has always feared, Merlin. We fear the power of man.” 

There was a short silence while the humans among the company digested the implications of his statement, before the dragon spoke again.

“Now I will need your help. I will take you to him.”

Morgause stepped forward. “The man I … interrogated … he didn't know much but in his mind I saw a meeting. A meeting between Kanen and Uther Pendragon.”

“So it was Uther who sold Kanen out? But why'd he do that?” Merlin asked.

And just like that, Arthur knew. “It’s a distraction. He was worried about the police getting too close and he gave them something to keep them busy. He didn’t just sell him out – he set him up. That’s why this theft is so different from the rest – it’s the only one where there's been theft for profit.”

“Uther's stealing objects of magic and of the Old Religion. If he's managed to gain control of a dragon…” Even Morgause appeared shocked out of her normal stoic demeanour and her arm was curved protectively around Morgana.

Arthur felt his heart sink and was unspeakably grateful as Merlin moved to stand by his side, lending him strength by his very presence. They were all looking at him, he realised suddenly, as if he was the person in command. Even the dragon seemed to be waiting for his direction. Arthur drew in a deep breath, steadied and settled by the weight of the hand that had curled around his.

He turned his attention to the dragon. “Do you know where?”

The great head inclined once.

“Can you carry four of us?” He revised his question, remembering the hostility in the silent exchange he'd witnessed between the dragon and Morgause. “Are you willing to carry four of us.”

“Would you aid dragonkind against your father, Arthur Pendragon?”

Arthur tipped his chin up and met the golden gaze. “I would. You have my word.”

“Then I will carry you into battle.”

Oh my fucking God, Arthur didn't like the sound of that, and yet for some reason a fierce drive rose within him, a need to get to the site of this battle and to see it through to the very end. He squeezed Merlin’s fingers.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said.

**

Of the four of them, it was only Merlin who took any pleasure from the trip, whooping in sudden delight as they took to the skies and Arthur felt rather than heard a rumble of what might have been laughter from the great beast they were astride. Morgana’s arms were tight around his waist and he freed his own hand from its death grip around Merlin to squeeze her hand reassuringly. Her own hold tightened fractionally and he felt her head come to rest against his shoulder. Morgause’s hands were buried in the thick sweatshirt Arthur was wearing, her arms bracketing Morgana and he knew without doubt she'd sacrifice herself to save Morgana without thought.

Merlin turned at one point to grin at him and he could only smile in response at the sheer joy in his lover’s face. How he could possibly be enjoying this was beyond Arthur, but Merlin looked like a child on Christmas morning and for a moment the trepidation regarding what was facing them lifted and he squeezed hard before dropping a kiss on the back of Merlin’s neck.

Arthur turned his attention to the terrain speeding by below them. There was a light covering of cloud and occasionally the dragon’s flight plunged them into cold and mist before breaking out once more into the clear skies. He peered down, trying to get a sense of where they were travelling towards but other than recognising they were heading east, he couldn't guess their destination.

At least, not until they were almost on top of it and as soon as he saw where they were, he realised he should've guessed. 

Stonehenge was lighted up and was a hive of activity, and even more shocking was the sight of the white bulk of another great dragon. As they glided silently across the great stones it looked up into the sky and let loose a mournful cry. Arthur felt Morgana flinch behind him but had no chance to consider what her link to the white dragon was before their own dragon settled gently onto the ground on the far side, out of the range of the lights.

While they had been flying, Arthur had thought of a number of scenarios and possible approaches, but now he was faced with the reality, he wasn't sure what to do for the best. The dragon shook itself, as if suddenly irritated by the load he carried, and they slipped and tumbled down his side and onto the ground, landing in a tangle of limbs. With a certain amount of quiet cursing, they managed to extricate themselves until they were standing at the dragon’s head.

“What the fuck?” Merlin was the first to break the silence, keeping his voice low although the disbelief was clear enough to hear. “They’re using a dragon to fucking steal Stonehenge!” 

“So it would seem,” Arthur felt a little blank, but drew in a deep breath and turned to the dragon. “How could Uther possibly be controlling Aithusa?” 

“I do not know,” The dragon’s voice was low and troubled. “The only magic by which he could do so is if he was a Dragonlord and he is not.”

“We need to know that. Otherwise we can't help. Can’t you ask him?”

Morgana’s voice broke in. “Aithusa's never been able to speak.”

“Not even – you know?” Arthur asked, thinking of the telepathic communication she and Merlin had admitted to hearing earlier. He turned to the dragon. “You said he called you.”

“Not with words.”

“Looks like I’ll have to ask my father, then,” Arthur said.

“What? No!” Merlin grabbed his arm. “Arthur, he’s not well. You don’t know what he’ll do if you suddenly turn up.”

“He won’t hurt me.” Arthur had to believe it. “While I’m talking to him, you need to do what you can about the other men – and disable the vehicles. Can you do that?”

There was a flash of gold as Morgause looked at him. “Yes.”

“I must go with you, Arthur.” Morgana said.

“I’m going with Arthur,” Merlin said.

“Neither of you are coming with me.” Arthur was firm. “Morgause will need some help to get as many of Uther’s men and vehicles out of the picture as we can. And I'll get further with Uther if there's no-one else to distract him.”

Merlin was staring mutinously at him, as if he was about to argue and Arthur held up his hand, expression stern. “You'll be close by and I promise I'll call for help if I need it. I won’t take any stupid risks.” 

Arthur was slightly unnerved as he catalogued the faces staring back at him. Morgana fond, Morgause surprised, the dragon amused and concerned all at once and Merlin. The breath caught in his throat. The love and worry etched on Merlin’s features almost broke him. He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. Merlin’s hand shot out and gripped his arm.

“Promise me,” Merlin said. “Promise me you’ll shout the minute you need help.”

Arthur pressed the fingers holding onto him so desperately, and forced himself to meet Merlin’s gaze, despite his own disquiet. “I give you my word.” He wondered why Merlin sounded so terrified all of a sudden but there was no time now to explore the roller-coaster of emotion they both seemed to be experiencing.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the shadows towards the hive of activity in the centre of the stone circle.

“Father.”

Uther whirled to face him, the robes he was wearing swirling around him and Arthur caught sight of the neatly pressed trousers from a Savile Row suit, and the perfectly polished shoes.

“Arthur! What are you doing here?”

“More to the point, what exactly are you doing, father?”

Uther stalked towards him, leaning in close and Arthur recoiled a little at the mad gleam in Uther’s eyes. Uther took a tight grip of his arm and spoke quietly, but with a passion alarming in one who'd always been so cold and calculating.

“Can’t you feel it, Arthur? It’s so strong here.”

“What?”

“The magic, Arthur. The evil surrounding us. I almost banished it once, long ago, but now it's returned to poison the land.”

“Father, what on earth are you talking about?” He didn’t say there was no such thing as magic – even Merlin seemed to have finally given up on that tack in the face of the whole existence of dragons thing.

“Magic must be destroyed. I saw it in my dreams – we lost our Kingdom to magic and it took your mother.”

“Cancer took my mother – not magic.”

Uther stared at him as if he'd never seen him before. “You don’t understand. You've been tainted. My own son stands against me.” There was a dramatic edge to his words making it feel like a performance, as if Uther was acting a part.

They stood facing one another, an outwardly calm focus at the centre of a whirlwind of activity. One of the great trilithons was already on the ground and it was with sheer horror that Arthur saw the white dragon breathe fire on one of the stones, the men moving in immediately afterwards and using pneumatic drills to break it up. 

Uther wasn't trying to steal Stonehenge. He intended to destroy it.

Arthur had to buy enough time to let the others work, but they would have to be quick if they were to save one of the country’s most precious cultural treasures. “Of course I don’t understand. You need to explain it to me.” Their interaction at the museum had provided an initial indication of how far Uther had slipped from reality but it hurt Arthur more than he could ever have believed to see the madness in his gaze and hear the nonsense spewing from him. All Arthur could do was keep Uther talking as long as he could and delay what was happening here. “Tell me, father. Help me understand?”

Uther smiled and Arthur thought he'd never seen anything so heartbreaking in his life. What he would've done, what he would've gone through when he was younger to be at the receiving end of such a smile. But now it meant nothing more than a reassurance that he had the man’s attention and could leave the others to do what they must.

“I'm protecting us all, my son, so when it comes time for you to inherit the kingdom it will be free of this scourge. Every piece of magic will be destroyed, every place where the abomination has been practiced will be torn down.

“You’re going to destroy Stonehenge? Father…” He was speechless for a moment, hating the fact his earlier supposition was right, and he couldn’t even begin to address the concept of a kingdom being involved. “If you're so dead set against magic, why is the dragon helping you?”

The smile Arthur witnessed spreading across Uther’s features then was unpleasant and Arthur took a step backwards, wishing he hadn't drawn attention away from himself as Uther looked over to where the white dragon was crouched, uneasy, shifting from leg to leg and looking over to where the other dragon waited.

“Tell me, father.” Arthur attempted to pull Uther’s gaze back to him.

“I bought a desk at an auction a few years ago and discovered within it a secret compartment. And in the compartment was a crystal. A beautiful thing, Arthur, or so I thought until I stared into its depths and understood the evil it contained. It showed me things. Terrible things. It woke memories of the past and showed me the future. I destroyed it, Arthur. I crushed it to dust – but not before it showed me my path – and where to find the beast that had slept for over one thousand years. I went with the aim of destroying it, but then realised I could use it; use it to gather the magic, use it to destroy before I finally deal with it.”

To say Arthur was appalled would've been a massive understatement.

“How did you get the dragon to obey you?”

“I took its young. I threatened to destroy the eggs it was guarding.’ Uther chuckled. “It doesn’t know I'll destroy them anyway.”

It was no good, Arthur couldn't possibly hide the horror and nausea the very thought engendered. He saw the suspicion enter Uther’s expression and knew he'd lost his advantage.

Uther stepped away from him. “You disappoint me, Arthur.”

Arthur snorted and threw caution to the winds. “So what’s new?”

It was as if he'd not spoken. “You've turned away from everything I hold sacred. It's unfortunate you are my only heir. If our kingdom is left to you it will be destroyed and all I've strived for will be lost. I can't allow it to happen.”

In the next moment Arthur was staring down the barrel of a wicked looking pistol.

“Father?” he whispered.

**

Merlin couldn't quite explain why he'd such a bad feeling watching Arthur walk away from him. He supposed the general weirdness of the situation and of the attempt on their life a few months previously had left him over-protective, but there was something in his gut flat-out rebelling at the thought of Arthur walking alone into the centre of the circle. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“We've work to do,” Morgause said.

He took a deep breath and turned towards her, fighting against the instinct that would have him rushing to stand at Arthur’s side. “Yes. Can you knock out the guards?”

“Yes.”

“I can disable all the vehicles.” Once again he blessed his mother and some of her more unusual talents. What only he and Gaius knew was his mother had spent her teenage years hot-wiring and stealing cars across much of south Wales. As well as teaching her son to drive, she'd also provided him with a whole set of skills related to cars and engines.

“I need to go to Aithusa,” Morgana said, and after one glance at her distressed features, Merlin didn't attempt to argue.

“Will he understand you? Can you actually communicate?”

“We could once upon a time.” She looked up at the dragon beside them. “Can you speak to him?” she asked and her tone was hopeful.

“Aithusa has never fully developed. I felt his despair and it drew me to him, but he does not speak. He cannot. But he does understand and I believe he will be able to communicate with you.”

“Stay with Aithusa, Morgana. Morgause, you and I will come back here when we’re done and we can see how things are with Arthur and Uther.”

Morgause nodded and then hugged Morgana. “Be careful, sister,” Morgause said, before letting her go and her expression was more human than Merlin had ever seen.

“What about you?” Merlin asked the dragon.

“I will wait.”

“Great. Yes. That’s – helpful. You just wait here then.” Merlin scowled at him for a moment and then turned to stomp off, as Morgana and Morgause melted into the night. He took a deep breath to calm himself and as silently as possible he worked his way round to the vehicles. There were a number of low loaders and several expensive-looking cars. He stumbled over a sign, stopping to make out the words in the portable lights that had been brought in and which lighted the centre of the circle and the massive trilithons. 

_Closed for filming_

Well, that explained the lack of concern from the authorities, he supposed. Stonehenge was isolated but not so much that people would miss it if something was up. It didn’t surprise him to know Uther had gone to the trouble to ensure he'd a legitimate presence on the site. Which probably meant the English Heritage staff on duty were being held somewhere close by. He glanced across at the visitor centre and decided to leave it for the time being and to concentrate on his initial task. 

As he moved he frequently glanced into the centre, to the two figures engrossed in their conversation, and he relaxed a little as they continued to speak, hoping Arthur was managing to talk some sense into Uther. Morgause was a silent presence beside him, a murmur and flash of gold all he was aware of as man after man slumped down to the ground. As a precaution he removed any weapons he could find, chucking them into a bag taken from one of the vehicles, as he quietly and efficiently disabled the cars using a variety of different ways. He blessed his mother for the advice, knowing this would slow them down even more as they'd have to find out what was wrong with each and every vehicle.

The breath left him in a rush as he realised they'd dealt with all of the people around the site, leaving only Uther standing in the centre and for the moment Uther appeared unaware of the shift in the balance of power. Merlin reckoned there would still be some strays in the visitor centre but for the moment they were out of the way and they could concentrate on dealing with Uther.

Now there was no need to hide and he moved into the circle of light, just as Uther pulled out a gun and levelled it at his own son. With a gesture Uther got Arthur to turn and walk towards the white bulk of the other dragon. His eyes glittering with his madness he turned the gun on Merlin and he realised he'd no option but to walk forward and stand with Arthur. Morgause had stayed back out of sight and Merlin tried to stay calm, knowing how strong she was and that the dragon was close by, too. He moved subtly until he was as close as he could get to Arthur and felt a cold, clammy hand curl around his. Merlin squeezed the fingers and risked a soft smile, offering as much reassurance as he could.

“Witch.” Uther’s voice was ice-cold. “I remember you.”

Morgana stepped forward and her cheeks were streaked with tears. Behind her a white head turned, tracking her movement and then shifting until Aithusa could rest his snout on the ground, allowing Morgana to lean against him and loop an arm up and around his neck. Together they were a poignant and beautiful sight.

Merlin swallowed hard.

“Uther.” Morgana’s tone matched Uther’s and they stared at one another in undisguised loathing.

“I could tell the beast to kill you and it would obey me,” Uther said.

Aithusa let loose a low rumble of anger and fear. Merlin wondered how he could so easily understand what the sound represented.

“What have you done to him?” Morgana asked. 

Her voice wavered and for a moment Merlin believed it to be grief before he took a closer look and saw an unadulterated fury and loathing Merlin thought should really have scorched Uther into ashes.

Uther’s smile was cold and he didn't answer her.

Merlin tensed further as Arthur let go of his hand and stepped in between Uther and Morgana until he was in the direct firing line, protecting Morgana. Merlin felt the breath stutter in his throat, loving Arthur even more for his nobility at exactly the same time as he was utterly convinced Morgana didn't deserve such consideration. Morgana was staring at Arthur’s back as if he'd done the last thing she'd ever expected. Merlin fought his own instincts, wanting desperately to rush into the fray and his concentration was so fixed on Arthur and the scene unfolding before him that he was hardly aware of Morgause moving to stand by his side, pulling him back.

Arthur spoke. “Uther has dragon eggs. He's threatened to destroy them if Aithusa doesn't do his bidding.”

Morgana let out a low cry of distress.

For some reason Arthur’s words sent a physical pain cutting through Merlin. He gasped and doubled up as myriad emotions swirled through him, leaving him breathless and aching deep within; deep in the coiled, strange _other_ that had been plaguing him since the very moment he'd met Arthur Pendragon. With effort, he pulled himself back from the brink of some crises, although he'd no idea what it might be, and concentrated once more on the confrontation.

“Move out of the way, Arthur, and allow me to do what I should have done when I first set eyes on the witch.”

“I will not.” Arthur was steadfast.

Uther was lost in his madness. “Very well.”

It all happened in the space of one heartbeat to the next and it was an image Merlin believed would haunt him until his dying day. With no appearance of regret whatsoever, Uther levelled the pistol at his son. Arthur’s expression of pained disbelief, clear even across the grass sward separating them, would've broken Merlin’s heart if he'd time to even acknowledge it. Instead, something uncoiled and rushed through him and before he could think, before he could judge or come to any kind of rational conclusions, he shouted, “No!” 

Merlin threw out his hand, his fingers splayed wide apart and watched as Uther flew backwards to land on the turf, unmoving. Arthur darted forward and picked up the weapon, turning to stare at Merlin and even in the artificial light he looked pale and sick. 

Merlin rounded on Morgause.

“That was you, wasn’t it? You did something. It must've been you.” It had to have been her, because the only other explanation was something Merlin didn't want to consider. 

Could not. 

Would not. 

He was panting and sweating as if he'd run a race.

Morgause considered him for a long moment, her eyes narrowed as if she was judging him. She sighed softly. “Yes, Merlin. It was me.”

“I knew it. It had to be you.” Merlin tried to control his breathing and he whispered, “I knew it.” Then he was off, moving across the grass to meet Arthur. They wrapped their arms around one another and Merlin whispered reassurances and soft words as Arthur shook in his embrace, face buried against Merlin’s neck.

Morgana and Morgause approached, the white dragon staying as close to Morgana as he could.

“Arthur,” Morgana began and paused, apparently lost for words. In the end she smiled and reached out to run her fingers down his cheek. “You stood in front of a gun? For me?”

Merlin watched from his position held tight in Arthur’s embrace and for the first time he felt no real hostility either to or from the women. Arthur freed one hand from his death grip on Merlin and took her hand, squeezing it wordlessly. Arthur smiled, a small, self-deprecating twist of his lips, and shrugged his shoulders a little. Merlin leaned his cheek against Arthur’s shoulder and felt his own expression relax. 

There was a moment of peace, of accord, before a warning rumble from the dragon interrupted them. Aithusa’s head swung around and let loose an anguished cry.

Merlin stared at the empty space where Uther had been lying, cursing as he heard the sound of a car engine from the other side of the monument. They could only watch as the rear lights of a range rover bounced away across the grass towards the road. He cursed. It hadn't occurred to him there might be another vehicle hidden elsewhere.

“The eggs!” Merlin cried. “Uther will destroy them.” There was a moment when he fought against that twisting, coiling other and then suddenly gave up and let it rush through him. “Aithusa - take Morgana and Morgause.” And then he turned and peered into the darkness. “Kilgarrah!” He shouted the name, voice deep and commanding. By his side Arthur started.

“Merlin?”

The great dragon set down before them and in moments they were all airborne, trusting on Aithusa’s instincts to track Uther and the eggs.

**

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin as the dragon – Kilgarrah – took flight, his massive wings stirring the air around them as they shot through the air. If he squinted against the wind he could make out the pale bulk of Aithusa leading the way.

As they travelled, Arthur tried to sort through the fine muddle his mind was in. Bad enough that Uther had masterminded the theft and destruction of Britain’s archaeological past; bad enough his father had pointed a gun at him and seemed prepared to pull the trigger; but the complete lack of emotion when he'd done so had shaken Arthur to his core. Throughout the years of estrangement, Arthur had held onto the belief that despite their differences, his father still loved him. How could he believe it now? In the face of such coldness, how could he ever imagine he'd been loved? 

He wondered if Merlin had picked up on his distress when Merlin loosened one hand from his grip on the dragon’s neck and covered Arthur’s fingers where they were tangled fiercely in the sweatshirt Merlin was wearing. Swallowing down more emotion than he wanted to deal with, Arthur shut his eyes against the stinging wind that was making them water and buried his face against Merlin’s back.

When Arthur had pulled himself together he began to take more note of his surroundings. As they sailed silently through the clear moonlit night, Arthur saw the glow in the sky up ahead indicating they were approaching a large city. It had to be London, he thought, given the size and spread, and it made sense. Where was the best place to hide anything but in a city where no-one took too much note of what their neighbours were up to. Racking his brains from his short stint with Uther’s company he recalled an area of derelict warehousing on the outskirts of the city and as Aithusa and then Kilgarrah banked left he realised that was exactly where they were heading.

It was only when they landed Arthur realised Aithusa had more or less followed Uther although how he managed to trail the man was something he supposed he'd never know. As Uther’s car swept into the car park in front of the run-down building, the two dragons settled onto the ground. Arthur tumbled down onto the hard ground, wincing as he thumped onto the tarmac and heard a matching hiss from Merlin as he landed beside him.

“Ladders,” Merlin muttered. “Must invent special ladders for getting on and off a dragon.”

Morgana and Morgause interrupted before Arthur could snap, too tense and worked up to be in the mood for Merlin’s particular brand of humour. He glared at Merlin, but was easily appeased by the squeeze to his hand and Merlin’s suddenly remorseful expression.

“We need to get the eggs.” Morgana’s tone was fretful. “I’ve had to convince Aithusa not to incinerate Uther as soon as he sees him.”

Arthur winced. Morgana didn’t seem to notice.

There was no time for any further talk as Uther dashed out of the car, firing off a random shot as he went and Arthur, who'd been congratulating themselves on getting rid of the guns at Stonehenge cursed aloud as they all ducked.

Light flooded a doorway, Uther framed in it for an instant before it slammed shut and left them in darkness once again. 

It was testament to the current weirdness colouring Arthur’s life that he didn't blink an eye when Morgause uttered a short phrase and a globe of light shimmered into the air before them.

“Right, well, we need to get in there.” Arthur thought for a moment and then turned to the hulking shape behind him. “Kilgarrah, any chance you could open that door?”

The great golden eyes fixed on him for a moment before Kilgarrah bowed his head. “For you, my King.” The courtesy seemed almost unconscious, making his next action all the more shocking as he moved forward and simply charged at the building, rearing up and shoving forward with his forelegs. Aithusa roared his own challenge as the door caved beneath the onslaught of the dragon’s strength, taking part of the wall with it.

Arthur cleared his throat. “You have my thanks. Will you stop Uther if he tries to leave with the eggs.”

Kilgarrah’s enigmatic expression didn't alter but a shiver ran down Arthur’s spine. He didn't qualify his words or ask for reassurance, though. It was too late for such niceties.

Quickly, Arthur motioned to the others to follow him, stepping quietly to the shelter of the wall and easing carefully into the doorway. Merlin, Morgause and Morgana fell into place behind him, fanning out and staying as low as possible. As Arthur slipped into the building he ducked down, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, and was aware of the others copying his movement until they were all inside, hunched down and using a bank of convenient filing cabinets for cover.

From outside, the air was rent by the sound of Aithusa’s distress.

Arthur eased up from their cover and scanned the area of the old, deserted building, seeing movement towards the back of the warehouse. He thought fast, surprised at the way a number of scenarios presented themselves and were assessed and discarded, before he settled on a course of action.

“We need to split up. Merlin and I will go left, Morgause and Morgana, you go right. Get to the back of the room and see if the two of you can try and set up a distraction – but stay out of sight.”

Morgause drew in a breath, as if she was about to argue but shut her mouth abruptly and nodded instead. She grabbed Morgana by the hand and they moved silently away.

Merlin clutched his arm. “Arthur, are you sure about this? It’s your father.”

Arthur was desperately trying to forget the fact. “Are you suggesting we should just wait here and let him destroy who knows what – including the dragon eggs? Besides, if he does destroy them, do you really think he’s going to get out of this place alive? We have to stop him, Merlin.” Whatever the cost to Arthur personally, this was something they had to do. He met Merlin’s eyes and tried to convey his own certainty they were doing the right thing.

Merlin bit his lip and when he nodded his agreement, Arthur released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

“Come on,” was all he said and he led the way, hugging the walls of the building as they made their way towards the obvious sounds of activity at the other end. 

There were crates in the middle of the floor and Merlin paused grabbing Arthur’s hand and tugging him across to them. Arthur watched, shifting from one foot to another as Merlin slipped the lid off and swore.

“What?”

“The Mold Cape. Bugger, the theft hasn’t even been announced. I haven’t heard a whisper. Arthur, this is all the stolen stuff.” He twitched a tarpaulin which revealed a number of stones.

Arthur pulled him onward and when they reached the doorway to the next room Arthur stood straight and tall. Before a shocked, flailing Merlin managed to grab him, Arthur walked into the room. Arthur wasn’t the least surprised when Merlin muttered something undoubtedly uncomplimentary and stood up to follow him, hovering at his shoulder.

“Father.”

Uther was hunched over an old metal desk, fiddling with something on its surface. He spun around as Arthur spoke, staring at his son as if he was a stranger.

“Father, you need to stop now.” Arthur felt his gaze shift to the two objects on the desk. He'd never seen anything quite like them before but it seemed fairly obvious he was looking at two dragon eggs.

Uther laughed. “Are you mad, Arthur? You've seen magic, haven’t you? Don’t you understand how evil it is? We need to scour it from the face of the earth. I must finish what I've started.” For a moment his features softened and he looked at Arthur as if he knew him, eyes ranging over his face. “You shouldn't have come here, Arthur. I’m sorry.” The gun was in his hand again and it was pointed at Arthur and Merlin.

“What are you doing?”

Uther smiled. “Waiting.”

He stepped back as Morgana and Morgause spilled through the door, stopping abruptly at the sight of the gun.

“You were supposed to set up a distraction,” Arthur said.

Uther’s smile widened. “The witches and the sorcerer. This is perfect.” He chuckled suddenly and stepped to the side.

“That’s why we thought we’d better come in straight away,” Morgana said.

“Buggering fuck,” said Merlin as they all gazed at the briefcase with its mess of wires and suspicious looking packets.

“There are others throughout the building. This place is rigged to blow. And there was nothing we could do about them,” Morgause said. 

She was clutching Morgana close and Arthur reached behind him for his own comfort, feeling Merlin’s hand slip into his and squeeze hard, although Arthur didn't shift his eyes from Uther.

“I've learned much about magic from the crystal. Including how to use cold iron. Your magic will not be able to stop this. We'll all die together.”

“How long, father?”

“Minutes.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I don’t think so.” Before anyone else could blink, he pulled his fist back and, ignoring the gun still held in Uther’s hand, he slammed his fist into Uther’s jaw. Uther didn’t even have the chance to look surprised as he dropped like a stone, the gun falling from his hand and skittering off under the desk.

“Take the eggs and get into the middle of the building where the crates are. Move!”

As he spoke he was hunkering down and pulling at his father’s unconscious body, staggering as he made it to his feet with the man over his shoulder.  
He followed them to the crates and dropped Uther without much care. Instead, he grabbed Morgause by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “Can you shield us?”

She dragged in a deep breath. “Not by myself.” She exchanged a glance with Morgana and then spun to face Merlin. “We need Emrys.”

There was a moment’s pause, a moment they couldn't really afford before Merlin responded.

“I’m not Emrys. I don’t understand-“

Morgana spoke. “Merlin, you need to remember –“

“No, no he doesn’t. He just needs to trust us. You both need to trust us,” Morgause interrupted.

Arthur took Merlin’s hand. “You have yet to steer us wrong, Morgause. What do you need us to do?”

“Just take our hands and close your eyes.”

They shifted quickly until they were standing in a circle; Arthur, Morgause, Merlin and Morgana, with Uther huddled unconscious on the floor in the middle. Arthur spared the briefest of moments to lament the loss of Merlin’s touch, especially as there was every chance these were their last moments. He heard Morgana and Morgause begin to chant, and only opened his eyes when Merlin cried out in fear and denial.

They, with Uther and all the crates, were covered by a shimmering golden dome. The sight of Morgana and Morgause with glowing golden eyes was unnerving enough, but Merlin eclipsed them, power rushing from him to feed the dome protecting them. He looked terrified and Arthur ached to touch him, but Morgana squeezed his hand hard in warning, stopping him from breaking the circle. He was vaguely aware of the chaos outside their shield as the building exploded around them, but he could hear nothing of it, and could only watch as concrete, wood and metal shot past them and rained down upon them. Once or twice he thought their barrier would fail but each time Merlin cried out strange words and the dome brightened and held.

It seemed to go on forever, but eventually there was nothing but dust in the air and the eerie silence reflected the stillness. The two women let him go and he was just in time to step over his father to catch Merlin as he fell.

“Merlin!” Frantically Arthur pressed fingers to Merlin’s neck, gasping out his relief when he felt the steady thrum of his pulse. It was rapid, but it was strong and was enough to reassure him. He buried his face in Merlin’s hair, breathing in the scent of his lover and letting it calm his own heartbeat.

Morgause crouched down beside him, her expression as compassionate as he'd ever seen it. 

“It would be better if he didn't remember. He 's not supposed to know who and what he is.” She sighed and met his eyes. “And nor are you, Arthur Pendragon. Yet the Old Religion needed your aid to save dragonkind and it called on you both.”

“Me?” Having witnessed the power Merlin had exerted when he raised Kilgarrah, not to mention what had just happened, he could understand Merlin was special. But how could Arthur Pendragon possibly be part of that?

Morgana joined them, kneeling in the dust and dirt, and she placed her hand on Arthur’s arm. Her long, dark hair had come loose and fell around her shoulders. Arthur frowned as a brief picture of Morgana in a long, green dress surfaced. It felt like a memory, but it couldn’t possibly be.

Morgana spoke and the image was gone. “You've a destiny, you and Merlin, linked together through time. It was thwarted once, by those who couldn't understand and who lusted after power for its own sake.” Her face flushed and she looked down for a moment, as if considering her next words. “You're supposed to live out this life in peace, while those who rose against you have walked the earth many times since you first died, to learn, and try to earn forgiveness. You're good men and I'm only sorry I didn't trust that. Arthur, we need you to forget any part magic has played in this. It's not time.”

“What about my father? He's convinced… Can you make him forget, too?”

Morgana looked down at the unconscious figure of Uther and her expression of distaste was clear. “We can try, but he's looked into the Crystal of Neathid and it wielded a power beyond our comprehension. It may yet have a hold on him.”

Arthur stared up at her and another memory surfaced. “You're my sister,” he whispered and he reached up to touch her cheek, smiling for a moment. He glanced down at Merlin, still held close within his arms and remembered Merlin’s dislike of magic, the fear in his voice, his cry of terror as power flowed through him and he took a deep breath.

“Make us forget.”

 

**

Merlin woke gradually to discover a pair of concerned blue eyes fixed on him. He managed to smile and, with Arthur’s help, scrambled to his feet.

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

Arthur shrugged and turned as Lance walked towards them, his face chalk white.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Lance said.

Merlin was distinctly hazy over how they'd managed to end up in London, and Arthur wasn't much better. In the end, Lance reverted to dealing with practicalities, arranging for Uther, who was awake and raving, to be picked up by the appropriate authorities. 

Glancing quickly at Arthur’s face, Merlin slipped a hand into his, offering what comfort he could until Lance called him away to begin looking at the crates. 

It was a couple of hours before he resurfaced from the tumbled mass of artefacts, looking up suddenly to see Arthur perched on what was left of the floor, leaning against one of the boxes. He was sound asleep. The sight made him aware of his own exhaustion, and he stumbled across to Lance who was still busy with the SOCO team.

“Lance, can you get us back to Cardiff?”

He glanced over at Merlin and then caught sight of Arthur. “You still can’t remember how you got here?”

“Honestly, no. I’m sorry, but I suppose it was something to do with the explosion.”

“I’d love to know how the pair of you survived it?”

Merlin shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Lance. I just want to get home and sleep for a week.” He felt grubby and exhausted and he was desperate to stumble as far as a shower and then curl up in a bed with Arthur.

Lance nodded. “There’s a driver waiting to take you. I have to go to Stonehenge, apparently something went down there as well tonight. “ He scrubbed his hands through his hair. 

It was almost as if a memory flashed through Merlin’s mind and then was gone, leaving him with a sense of something forgotten. He shook his head to try and clear it, but the thought remained elusive and he was too exhausted to track it down. Instead, he wandered across to Arthur and tugged on his arm.

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to go home.”

Arthur grumbled, his eyes remaining stubbornly closed.

Merlin tugged again.

“Go away. I hate you.”

“Aww, just get as far as the car, then you can go back to sleep.”

“I can sleep here.”

Merlin couldn’t help it, he had to laugh at the sight and sound of Arthur moaning like a small child about getting up.

“Come on,” he said, and pulled steadily until Arthur, still grumbling, heaved himself to his feet and yawned. Keeping his eyes shut, he slung an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and leaned.

“Oof, you’re putting on weight,” Merlin teased as he manoeuvred them towards the car that Lance was indicating.

They scrambled into the back and then Merlin pulled Arthur into his arms.

“Go to sleep now.”

Arthur mumbled something but before Merlin could work it out, they were both asleep.

As the car took them towards Cardiff, Merlin twitched in his sleep.

Above them the red dragon and the white sailed through the sky and kept watch over the journey of their King and Dragonlord.

**

The next few days passed in something of a blur and included several frustrating interviews with Lance as none of the people involved seemed to remember much and Lance complained bitterly to Merlin that the only person really talking was Uther, and he was ranting about dragons and witches. Merlin was grateful Lance didn't say much when Arthur was present as he was spending enough time talking to doctors and psychiatrists. Merlin had also met Arthur’s uncle and had liked the genial man on sight, especially when he saw Agravaine’s concern for Arthur. They shared a couple of quiet chats together when Arthur was elsewhere and Merlin was left with the warm feeling that Agravaine approved utterly of their relationship.

“Arthur’s never been the easiest to fathom out,” Agravaine had admitted on one occasion. “He was always so guarded, and when his father was around I never managed to build the relationship with Arthur I would've liked. I hope he'll come to me if he needs me. You’ve been good for him, Merlin. I’m glad he has you.”

“He always will,” Merlin had replied, and they'd parted as the best of friends, brought together by their shared love for Arthur.

Lance, however, was considerably less enamoured with both of them until he was finally convinced that they were not talking because they simply couldn't remember. Gaius was much the same, having only a hazy memory of the events at the quarry. In the end, Lance had to accept it was a result to recover the artefacts and put an end to the thefts.

And of course, Merlin had pointed out with a gleam in his eyes, the whole situation had resulted in him meeting Gwen, so that had to count as a win.

At which point Lance had relaxed and laughed sheepishly, and the conversation had turned to more general topics.

 

**

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he joined Merlin by the side of the trench. Merlin was staring down and didn’t even seem to hear him and when Arthur followed his gaze, he understood why.

Where there had been one dragon, now there were two, and each held an egg.

“What? How?” Arthur ran out of words and instead he stood there and gaped.

Eventually Merlin managed. “I think we should bury it. Expunge it from the record.”

“How?”

“Hardly anyone saw it. Just the people from the Arc Soc and they seem to have moved on, and the students. There were a few journalists at the start but all we have to do is say it’s being buried to protect it and leave it at that.”

“We bury it?” Arthur asked.

“We bury it.” Merlin said.

Arthur reached out, hooking an arm around Merlin’s neck and reeling him in. He captured Merlin’s mouth in a kiss that promised more. Merlin’s hand curved around his face and in his touch Arthur recognised his future.

**

As they walked away from the site, a voice thrummed through Merlin as if it came from the earth itself.

_Until we meet again, young warlock._

 

**

 

_Prologue_

_The world turned._

_Empires rose and fell. Devastating wars wreaked havoc on the world and its people. A pestilence killed billions leaving huge swathes of the planet unpopulated and nature took back what had always been hers._

_People learned again how to live with the land – or they perished. In renewing their relationship with the land, the people found their way back to the Old Religion._

_The strong survived._

_Two men lay curled together on a bier made soft with furs over heather and bracken, limbs entwined like the everlasting roses that curled round the trunks of trees providing shade. A dark-haired man, stirred and yawned widely before blinking open eyes that had been closed for centuries. He pressed his mouth against the other man’s and swallowed the sleepy murmur his action garnered. Yawning again, he sat up and stretched before he poked his companion in his side._

_“Arthur, it’s time to wake up.”_

_“Mmm, Merlin.”_

_“Come on. It’s time to wake the dragons, too.” Merlin clambered off their bed and wondered at being young again._

_That intelligence was greeted by another sleepy murmur._

_“You always were terrible in the morning,” Merlin said, his tone fond and then he grinned, gripping the fur on which Arthur still lay, tugging it until he could roll Arthur off it and onto the ground._

_“Up and at ‘em, lazy daisy!”_

_“Merlin!”_

_Laughing at the shout of outrage, Merlin ran out into the sunshine with Arthur in hot pursuit. When Arthur caught him, he swung Merlin into his arms and kissed him soundly before they grinned at one another, entwined their fingers, and walked together into their future._

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's notes:** This was great fun to write and is intended to be fairly light and fun, so I hope at least some of you enjoy reading it! There are so many people to thank! awyvern for cheering me on, everyone in paperlegends chat for help and support above and beyond, the_muppet for another fabulous year, my beta fredbassett, who bravely took this on and beat out some of my bad habits, despite not being into Merlin at all. (I would not have got through this year without you, dear). Finally, I was blessed with a wonderful and talented artist amphigoury who has provided me with the fantastic art you will see in the story and kept me right on facts and details so should get a beta credit as well!. Not only that, she has become an amazing friend and I'm lucky to have her in my life. Finally, thanks to Merlin fandom as a whole. This has been a personally difficult year for me and you have helped me through it - you're all brilliant.
> 
> The museum is loosely based on the National Museum in Cardiff and I have not even attempted to go for veracity. The characters mentioned are mostly from Merlin or my own imagination and none bear any resemblance whatsoever to anyone who works or has ever worked in that institution. The information and inspiration on the bluestones came from http://www.megalithic.co.uk/article.php?sid=28658 this site, where you can see what looks like an actual bluestone ready to travel in the bottom picture.
> 
>  **Artist's notes:** Oh scotscookie **GLOMP** Thank you so much for letting me do the art for this fic! I know at first I was like, "I'm just gonna do the mosaic cuz I've got a ton of shit to do", but once you wrote that climactic scene I just HAD TO DRAW THAT!! Big thanks and squishy hugs to the_muppet for the amazing mod work she puts in every year for this community - you are AMAZEBALLS! And a very super special big glompy thanks to my trusty betas altocello and reni_m You guys are my heroes!! Thank you also to the #paperlegends chat gang for the cheers and motivation!


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